The Road Home
by Seriously Sam
Summary: It takes only one event to turn a boy into a man. Dean Winchester learned to be a man at a young age and would never wish it upon anyone.
1. In a Blaze of Fire

Title – The Road Home

Summary - It takes only one event to turn a boy into a man. Dean Winchester learned to be a man at a young age and would never wish it upon anyone.

**"The Road Home"**

"**Chapter One: In a Blaze of Fire"**

It's hard to remember the days of childhood. What is remembered is just fragments of miss-matching pieces. Dean could vividly remember his mother plump and full with baby Sammy inside her belly. That image was the one that had implanted itself into his mind. When he'd look at some photographs that survived the fire, it was strange to see his mother's slim body. Dean could vaguely remember his mother's voice, smooth like honey and soft like a low humming melody. One memory that stuck out in his mind was the day Sam was born. He was small and pink, and Dean instantly hated the kid. His mother was cradling the baby in her arms and his father swooned over them. Dean felt like an outsider looking in and being insanely jealous until his father had beckoned him over. He could remember his father picking him up and sitting him on the hospital bed. Sammy was just this disgustingly small baby that was loud and an attention hog. Dean couldn't really remember when he actually started to like his baby brother.

There was only one other childhood memory that seemed to haunt Dean's dreams for years after it happened. He woke up to his mother screaming. He ran down the hallway and saw his father rushing out of Sammy's nursery. This little bundle was thrust into his tiny arms and he was told to protect his brother. Dean remembered running, remembered the heat, the fire, the explosion, strong arms, tears. He could remember crystal clear what his father had said to him the next morning when he asked if his mom was all right and when she was coming home.

_"Sh-she didn't make it out in time, Dean, she's not coming home. I-I couldn't get to her. I'm so sorry."_

It was the single worst memory in Dean's entire life, and he would never wish that on his worst enemy. So when Dean got a call about a little boy who had been through the same horrific thing, he had rushed to the town with his father in tow. This little boy could only be empathize by Dean, because he was this kid's age when he went through the same thing.

It was a small space, white and sterile. The room looked like some twisted brick prison that no child should ever be seen in. There's a two-way mirror for some reason that Dean and John can't really comprehend. Perhaps observation? Used for some sick psychological experts? Who knew? All Dean could think about was how much he didn't want to enter the room and how part of him hated his father for thinking the whole situation was slightly amusing. It definitely wasn't amusing in the least.

He peered at the child sitting at the small table scribbling with a green crayon. Brown locks fell into his eyes but he either didn't care or didn't take notice. His concentration was solely on the wobbly doodles that seemed to represent something that none of the adults could understand. If Dean tilted his head slightly to the right, he swore he could see a person standing in giant flames.

The kid looked young, and Dean's calculated the math in his head more times than he's willing to admit. Four. The kid was four years old. He kind of saw Sammy in the kid, the unwavering concentration and the coloring of his hair. Except, the kid was clearly not Sam since was brother was off at Stanford doing college things. Dean's heart ached slightly at the thought of Sammy. Should he even call and tell him the news?

"You gotta go in sometime," John's voice is low, affectionate.

A calloused hand found its way onto the nape of Dean's neck. A squeeze of comfort and encouragement was meant in the tiny action. Dean didn't feel the effect. It only made him more nauseous. A four year old. A tiny, living, breathing four year old who watched his life vanish right in front of his eyes in the cruelest of ways was sitting just on the other side of the glass, and all Dean could think about was how he was so not prepared for this.

Taking a daring step forward, Dean entered the small room and immediately felt like he was trapped. The kid didn't look up from his scribbles. He merely switched crayons and started on the sky - or what Dean thought was supposed to be the sky. He sat down in one of the plastic chairs next to the kid, a lump in his throat.

"Hey, I'm Dean," he introduced himself awkwardly. "Doctor Tate said he talked to you about me."

The kid focused his attention on the hunter, and Dean felt like he was looking at some old toddler picture of himself. He had the same green eyes, the same skin coloring, the same array of freckles across the nose and cheeks, the same sad expression. Hell, Dean would be lying if he said he wasn't freaked out by the whole situation.

"I guess, uh, I'm your... what are you drawing?"

"Mommy." He pointed to a lopsided blob that somewhat represented a person if the head was titled the right way. "Bad man." He pointed to a dark figure in a swirl of oranges, yellows, and reds.

"Who's the bad man?"

The kid shrugged his shoulders before turning back to the drawing at hand. Dean glanced up, looking straight into the mirror where he knew his father was watching. He needed his father in the room, needed him to deal with this hurting boy in front of him. Except, Dean doubted his dad would enter the room. The support was there, that had been made clear, but John also made it clear that the first steps had to be all Dean.

"Did Doctor Tate talk to you about me?" The kid nodded. "Do you know who I am?"

"My dad," the kid whispered softly.

"Yeah, I knew your mom a few years ago… and… I'm your dad," he said lamely.

"Ben," he introduced himself half-heartedly without looking at his newfound father.

"I know," responded Dean with a chuckle. "Ben Braeden, a totally awesome four year old."

Ben didn't respond. Dean figured the kid didn't really want to talk or he just instantly hated him. Either way, Dean wanted nothing more than to leave the room and not look back. The door opened silently. John and Doctor Tate walked in.

"Hey, Ben, you wanna meet your grandfather?" asked Dean in relief.

John didn't bother with the small child's chair like Dean. He squatted down onto the balls of his feet and rested his elbows on his knees. A soft smile graced his face as he gazed lovingly at the small child in front of him.

"Hi, Ben, I'm your grandfather," he introduced himself in his usual low rumble. "I know I look a little young to be a grandfather, right?"

Ben barely acknowledged John or the feeble attempt at breaking the ice. He pushed the drawing towards his newfound grandfather before grabbing a new piece of paper. The scribbles continued. Dean looked at his father almost pleadingly. He didn't know where to go from here but John had been down this road before. John had somehow broken a four-year-old Dean out of his melancholy after Mary died.

"Ben, do you know what a will is? We talked about it the other day," Doctor Tate hovered over the table as he spoke. "Remember when we talked about how your mom wrote down who you would live with if she couldn't care for you? Well, Ben, your mom wrote down your dad's name in her will, and your dad wants you to live with him if you want to."

Ben didn't acknowledge that he even heard the doctor. The scribbles on the paper became large, dark circles and sort of looked like some kind of endless pit. Dean was at a total loss on how to communicate with the withdrawn four-year-old, and he kind of hated Doctor Tate for not taking better care of Ben in the last four days they were together. Glancing up at his father, Dean gave the man the most desperate look he could muster. If anyone could get through to the kid, it was John Winchester. In Dean's eyes, John could do anything - even after all these years.

"Hey, Ben, do you mind if your dad and I color with you for a little bit?" questioned John as he gave the doctor a look that clearly read _get the hell out, we'll take it from here_.

The kid didn't say anything, but he pushed pieces of blank paper towards John and Dean before going back to his own picture. John eased down onto the floor until he was sitting Indian-style. Then, he started to draw something with a black crayon. Dean didn't exactly know what to draw, but he picked up a crayon anyways and started to draw a stick-figure.

They sat in silence for about five minutes just drawing. Ben had already started working on this third drawing in that time. Dean finished long ago after drawing his best imitation of a person with floppy brown hair. John was still going at his picture, a lopsided Impala Chevy but it was the best out of everyone's attempts.

"This is my kid brother Sammy," Dean said softly as he pushed the drawing towards Ben. "He's off at college studying to be some big shot lawyer."

Looking up, Ben studied the picture briefly before turning back to his own drawing. Dean noticed it, and he was sure that John did too. Ben seemed to respond to Dean a little but didn't really acknowledge anyone else.

"I'm gonna get a cup of caffeine," John announced. "Dean, Ben, you guys want anything?"

Dean shook his head in the negative while Ben just ignored the question all together. There was a part of Dean that wanted to shout out, to stop his father from leaving him alone with a traumatized four-year-old. Except, he didn't have the heart to say anything.

"When I was about your age, I saw something real bad happen to my mom," Dean started as he picked up a yellow crayon. "I didn't feel like talking much either, but I had to because I was scaring the crap out of my dad and my kid brother."

Ben frowned deeply, his eyebrows tilting down, as he continued to draw his picture. He didn't say anything though, but Dean knew he was listening.

"I know you don't know me too well. I'm sorry I haven't been around either. I didn't know about you, Ben. I didn't know I had a son." Dean cleared his throat. "I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you, okay? I'm gonna take care of you. I promise."

"You go away like Mommy?" the words are so softly spoken that Dean wasn't sure if he actually heard them right.

A tightening happened in his chest. It felt like he'd been kicked in the gut as all the oxygen left his body. He could remember thinking the same thing. Dean could remember being alone, scared, and wondering if his dad would leave just like his mom had. He'd been scared for months that one day he'd wake up with fire licking his face and his father and Sammy burning alive.

"I promise you, Kid, I'm not going anywhere."

The crayon slipped from Ben's fingers as he turned his head to look up at his newfound father. The kid's lip quivered as tears burned his eyes. Dean could see the struggle within him: dare to hope or cast aside the words as lies. What Dean wasn't expecting was to suddenly have little arms wrap themselves around his neck in a death grip. He felt Ben's tiny fingernails pierce his neck. Dean didn't care though. He just slipped his arms around the boy's midsection and pulled him close to his chest.

Dean didn't know how long he sat in the little plastic chair with his arms wrapped around the crying toddler - _his_ crying toddler. All he knew was that it didn't seem longer than a few minutes. The kid's breathing slowly evened out, his grip loosened, and his body stopped trembling. Dean kept holding on as though both their lives depended on it long after Ben drifted off to dreamland.

When John walked into the room, a soft smile danced underneath his thick whiskers. Dean slowly rose from the chair so that he didn't wake Ben. It was a skill he acquired years ago when Sammy would fall asleep against him on the couch watching movies. Sam would fall to sleep halfway through a movie and expected Dean to carry him to bed when the credits rolled.

Cradling Ben carefully with one arm, Dean signed the release forms hastily. His name scribbled the endless amount of documents. Ben's breath was even against his neck indicating that he was still sleeping peacefully. Dean just wanted to get the hell out of the hospital, wanted to lay Ben down in a bed that didn't smell sterile or have restraints attached to the metal.

"Mister Winchester," a vaguely familiar male voice called.

Dean turned around slightly to catch sight of the doctor. Suppressing a groan, Dean flashed a fake smile towards Doctor Tate. Dean liked to believe he was a good judge of character. This doctor, he reeked of untrustworthiness. Well, he was mostly a good judge of character except for Cassie Robinson. He pinned her as some understanding chick who would be cool with the whole hunting evil business. She _so_ wasn't.

"I would like to see Ben again, continue our sessions. I believe that he will come around. He's in shock after his mother's… demise."

"Doctor Tate, with all due respect, I think Dean and I can handle Ben accordingly," responded John.

"Can you? I didn't know I had two highly qualified child psychologists on my hands here."

"We've been through this before, all right? I know how to handle this situation."

Ben started to stir, his arms tightening around Dean's neck. His face burrowed itself deep into his father's collarbone. Dean shifted the slight weight in his arms and didn't dare look at the doctor or his father. It felt like John had hit below the belt, stirring up bad memories to get the doctor to back off. Dean didn't think it would do the trick though. Deep inside, he feared that bit of information would not work in their favor.

"I will go to the judge and make a recommendation that Ben stay in my care if you won't cooperate," the doctor bit out.

"You do that," John snapped. "This kid lost his mother and now you're going to tear him away from the only family he has left? You think any judge in their right mind would pick _you_ over Dean?"

Anger radiated off John as he motioned for Dean to move. They walked out of the building and made their way towards the Impala. John had left the truck at the motel. Sliding into the passenger's seat, Dean eased the kid onto the bench seat. His head lay idly on Dean's lap, his shoes brushed up against John's thigh.

"What if they don't grant me custody?" questioned Dean quietly as John started the engine.

"Why wouldn't they give you custody?"

"I'm a single guy who's never held a steady job for more than a month and lives out of a car while traveling across the great American frontier with his dad. Yeah, you're right, that screams responsible parent material."

As soon as the words left Dean's mouth, he instantly regretted them. Glancing towards his father, he smiled apologetically but John kept his eyes on the road.

"You know what I mean, Dad."

"Nah, I get it. You're right. It's not a responsible way to raise a kid, but you're his _father_, Dean, and the judge is going to be weighed heavily by that. When they can keep a kid with a parent, they do that. We'll bullshit the judge, say we'll settle down for the good of the kid. They love that crap."

Dean's hand rested on Ben's head. Ben's hair was too long and reminded Dean of the days when his dad would bribe Sammy into getting a haircut. They'd offer him sweets, toys, _anything_ to get Sam to sit down in a chair and let their father cut his hair to a decent length. When the kid got older, he wore his hair long purposely to piss off their dad. After awhile, John gave up and accepted it.

A lump formed in Dean's throat at the very thought of his kid brother. He wanted so badly to whip out his phone and tell his brother that he was an uncle. He wanted - _needed_ Sammy in Indiana and be there when Dean went in front of the judge in a few days. His need for Sam was just as great as the need for John.

"Should I call Sammy?" questioned Dean.

John sighed, his grip tightening on the wheel. They'd talk about Sam in the sense of _do you think he's safe_ or _let's go place some extra protection on the dorm_. They never openly talked about calling Sam, trying to fix the rift that was gaping and painful.

"It's up to you, Dude," replied John. "I honestly doubt he'd come though if that's what you're thinking."

"He's an uncle," whispered Dean. "Wouldn't he want to meet the squirt?"

Glancing sideways at Dean, John let out a small chuckle. Sam was stubborn beyond all else. There wasn't a chance in holy hell that he would come to Indiana knowing that their father was there. For Dean, yes Sam would come. With his father there, Sam would stay his distance.

Once back at the motel, Dean gathered his son up in his arms and made his way to the room his father and him were sharing. Once inside, he laid the kid gently down onto his bed. John said he was going to go out and grab some food and supplies. Dean sunk down on the bed next to the sleeping boy… his sleeping son. The whole thing felt foreign and weird to Dean.

Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out his cell phone. Scrolling down his contacts, he stopped at "Sammy." A lump formed in his throat as he pressed the green send button. The phone rang for a while before Sam picked up.

_"Dean? Are you okay?"_

"Hey, Sammy, I'm fine. How are you?"

There was a pause on the other end. A sigh rang through.

_"I'm good. Why are you calling?"_

"I, uh, thought you'd like know you're an uncle."

There was another long pause. Then, there was a snort of disbelief. Dean sighed and glanced over at Ben. He was still sleeping soundly.

_"Dean, do you even know what a condom is?"_

"Listen, smart ass, I called you because the kid is four years old. His mom died in a house fire, which seems fishy, right? Anyways, I only got temporary custody of the kid right now. On Friday, I go in front of a judge to see if I get granted full custody. I thought you'd like to know or would like to come."

_"Shit, Dean, you're serious?"_

"Dammit, Sam, if you don't want to come, just tell me."

_"No, no… uh, if it's alright with Dad, I'll come. Where are you?"_

Dean sighed in relief. Ben stirred slightly, his head knocking against Dean's thigh.

"Dude, I know you think Dad hates you, but he doesn't. He misses your nerdy ass. There's no one here to fix his computer now."

Sam laughed.

_"What time is your hearing on Friday?"_

"Two."

_"Okay, I am done with classes on Thursday at 3:25. I'll see about catching a red eye or something Thursday night. Friday morning you can pick me up at the airport, we can get some food, and then go to court?"_

"Sounds good. I'm in Cicero, Indiana."

_"Okay, I'll do some research tonight on flights. I'll call you tomorrow and let you know when I'll land."_ Sam paused briefly. _"Hey, Dean, what's the kid's name?"_

"Ben. He's a good kid. Kind of quiet but that's to be expected, you know?"

_"I never thought I'd be an uncle. I'm excited to meet the kid. I'm glad you called me. I've missed you."_

"Yeah, me too, dude. See you Friday."

The line clicked.

Dean sat his phone down on the nightstand and then slid down to lay on his back next to Ben. The small boy felt his presence and unconsciously shifted his body closer. Dean watched his son sleep, an odd feeling filling him up inside.

Author's Notes - Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. Please take a few seconds to leave a review before you leave. :)


	2. In Two Different Cities

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Two: In Two Different Cities"**

Sam sat at his computer desk, tapping his pen on his judicial behavior textbook. When his brother had called him with the news that he was a father and wanted him there for his custody hearing, Sam had jumped on the idea. He missed his big brother more than he was willing to admit. Even though, he expected him and Dean to become distant after he went to college, it still pained him not to talk to his brother every day.

Dean followed their father blindly. If John asked to jump, Dean would automatically say, "How high?" Their father told Dean everything about their hunting trips and his thoughts in general about everything. Sam never had that kind of relationship with his father. It was all orders and blind obedience. While Sam rebelled against their father's authoritarian parents style, Dean took his father's side on everything. Now, the thought of seeing his father made Sam literally sick. In just four days, he would see the man who had told him that if he went to college then he shouldn't come back.

"Sam! I'm home! You won't believe who I have to take for my research class next semester. I'll give you a hint, she owns a broomstick and has a green, warty nose!"

Turning around, he saw Jessica walk into small spare bedroom of their apartment that they use as a study room. Her blonde hair was pulled back in its normal bouncy ponytail. A scowl graced her usual smiley face. Her slender frame was propped against the doorframe.

"I just might wait until next fall to take the class. I don't want the Wicked Witch again."

"Yeah, just wait a semester. You'd still graduate on time, wouldn't you?"

"Uh, yeah," Jess looked behind him at the computer screen. "You going somewhere?"

He had been looking up cheap flights to Indiana for the past half hour. He had a limited budget and would most likely have to pick up more hours at work just to pay off the plane ticket. It wasn't like he could just tell Dean no because of a money issue. His brother would hustle some pool or count cards at a poker game to get Sam the money. Honestly, he wanted to put that part of his life behind him. He didn't want to ever gain money like that.

"Indiana actually. My brother found out that he has a four-year-old son. The mom died in a fire, and I guess she told someone who the kid's father was. I dunno, but Dean got called and now he's going to court Friday to see if he can get full custody. I'm gonna go meet my nephew and go to court with Dean. Support him."

Jess crossed the room and pulled up a seat next to him. She was always so eager to hear things about his family and his past. Sam was always so tight lipped about everything.

It was hard to talk about his family partly because he couldn't tell everything they hunted supernatural beings for a living and partly because it made him miss them. Therefore, he'd give vague answers and brush off the questions by switching topics. After so long, it became increasingly harder to avoid the topic, especially when it came to Jess. They had moved in together during the summer after their freshman year as friends, she had seen the pictures of Dean and his parents. She'd make small comments or ask tiny questions. She was always fishing for information.

"Is your dad going to be there?"

Sam told her that he didn't have the best relationship with his father. When she pushed to find out the juicy details, he would brush her off and say that his mom's death unhinged him a bit. Sam could understand her thirst for knowledge on him. They were instant friends since move-in weekend freshman year. They were best friends that whole first year. Then, beginning of sophomore year, after he had already lived with her for three months, he worked up the courage to actually ask her out. Apparently, she had been waiting months for him to ask her on a date.

"Yeah, my dad's always with Dean."

Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes drifting off to his pile of political science and pre-law books. He had a test on Thursday that he should study for, but he couldn't get his mind off what was going to happen on Friday. Would his dad be upset? Would Dean even get custody? Should he even go?

"Maybe you and your dad can reconcile," suggested Jess – always the optimist. It took all Sam had in him not to laugh.

"I don't think so, Jess. My dad's not really a talker."

Jess frowned. She did not understand the Winchester family dynamic, and Sam couldn't say he blamed her. She grew up in a tight-nit family with loving parents and a kid brother. She was close to all her grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. In fact, her cousin Sadie and her were best friends ever since they were born which was probably due to the fact that they were born merely a week apart from each other. Jess lived and breathed family, couldn't wait to go home to Santa Barbara and start a family and a career upon graduation.

"You should try. I bet he misses you more than you think."

"Funny, Dean said he misses me because there's no one there to fix his computer."

Jess smirked and hit his arm lightly.

"That's what I would miss most about you! Who is going to fix my computer when I open those tempting scam emails about dancing kittens and cute pups but are really nasty viruses?"

"I don't know why you keep opening them!" Sam was laughing along with Jess.

"The titles sound so cute. I think they know I open them, because I always get them."

Sam shook his head. Jess was so innocent, so full of life. In fact, she lived for the small things in life. Holding a puppy or baking cookies – it was what made her happy. The weird thing was she always told Sam not to work for a big law firm that would suck out his soul. She didn't want a lot of money, thought it corrupted people. She wanted a small, modest living where they had enough to live a comfortable life but nothing extravagant. Sam loved that about her. So simple, so sweet, so Jess.

"If you want, I'll come with you to Indiana. Moral support and the kick in the butt you need to repair things with your dad."

The offer was tempting. He did not know how awkward it would be in Indiana with his dad there. With Jess by his side, his father would be forced to be on his best behavior and there could be absolutely no talk about hunting. The latter part was perhaps what he liked most about the idea. If Jess was there, his father and brother could not try to convince him to go back on the road with them. They couldn't even mention the word hunting in her presence.

"I'd like that."

"What? Really?" Jess shook her head in disbelief. "Are you really saying I can meet the family?"

"Yeah, I'd like it if you came and met my dad, big brother, and nephew. They're the only family I got. You're right, we need to stop this silliness of being mad at each other for stupid reasons. We need to be a family again. Dean… he reached out to me. I should reach out to them."

The grin on Jess' face was large and beautiful. She pushed his chair down slightly so she could gain access to the keyboard to look at the flights with him. She was absolutely giddy, bouncing up and down in her computer chair. There was a twisting in Sam's chest. Was he doing the right thing?

John balanced the bag of food in the crook of his left arm and chest. His hands were full of shopping bags filled with clothes that would fit a four-year-old and a few toys. He fumbled with the keys. It took him three attempts just to get the key into the lock and twist. Upon entering the motel room, he saw his grandson laying on the farthest bed in the fetal position. Next to him laid Dean with his arm wrapped protectively around the sleeping boy. Dean looked up at his father but didn't move.

Kicking the door shut, John ambled over to his bed. He dropped the bags of clothes and toys he picked up. Then, he sat the bag of food down on little table. He took out sleeves of fries and several wrapped sandwiches. He didn't really know what Ben liked so he ordered a variety of burgers and chicken sandwiches.

"Wanna wake up the runt to eat? I'm sure he's hungry. I bet they served crap food at the children's psych ward," John whispered low as he pulled out a bottle of pop and screwed off the cap.

Dean's hand found it's way to Ben's forehead. He brushed his bangs out of his eyes and moved his lips close to the boy's ear. He whispered the kid's name, trying to stir him gently. Ben groaned loudly and twisted his body to look up at his father. At first, it seemed like he did not recognize the man who was cuddling him. He jolted away from Dean as though he was burned, tears swelling in his eyes. Reaching out, Dean touched the kid's shoulder lightly and smiled reassuringly. A hint of recognition filled his gaze and he scooted back towards his father. His face immediately buried into his chest.

"Are you hungry?"

Ben merely shrugged his shoulders.

"Come on, let's eat."

Placing his hands under the kid's armpits, he hauled the kid up off the bed. Once he was standing, he situated his son on his hip and walked towards the table where the food was laid out.

"What do you like?" asked Dean as he grabbed a fry. "Beef? Chicken? Uh… dad, what the hell is that?"

There was a strange brown paddy with tuffs of greens and oranges laying in a weird wrapping.

"A veggie burger," replied John.

"A what?"

"I didn't know if the kid was a vegetarian!"

Dean laughed as he picked up the veggie burger and threw it in the trash. He'd be damned if his son didn't eat meat. He was a Winchester! Taking a seat, Dean adjusted Ben onto his lap. The kid looked down at the table with all the food. Carefully, he reached out and grabbed a fry and ate it

"So, Ben, you have a nice nap?" asked John as he took a bite of his cheeseburger.

Nodding his head in the positive, Ben took two more fries and slowly munched on them. John looked up at his son, nodding his head to the toddler to indicate that he should try to get the boy to talk. Except, Dean was at a loss on what to say.

"Uh, Ben, you know that drawing I showed you of my brother?"

He nodded again as his hands went for more fries.

"You're gonna meet him on Friday."

John cleared his throat and mouthed the word _what?_ to his oldest son. Dean ignored him and glanced down at the boy on his lap. Ben kept eating and didn't acknowledge announcement.

"Sammy's coming?" John asked aloud, frustration laced in his words. "How'd you convince him to come?"

"Just told him about Ben."

Dean looked up at his father, wandering what he really thought about Sammy coming. He knew his father loved the kid, would do anything for him. The two always butted heads whenever they were together. They could never agree on anything, always picked a fight with one another. Honestly, Dean didn't want them fighting while Ben was recovering from his mom's death.

"Finish up eating, then we can go to the park," Dean told Ben who continued to eat only the fries.

Twenty minutes later, the Winchesters were across the street at a little park. Kids scattered across the playground. Ben, after being urged by his father, walked to the swing set and sat idly on one of the swings. He swayed back and forth, hands clenching the chains, and head hung.

John stood next to Dean with his arms crossed across his chest and his eyes glued on his grandson. Dean didn't dare look at his father. He had a distinct feeling his father was upset about Sammy coming, although he wasn't exactly sure why.

"When is Sam going to get here?"

"Are you mad about that?" questioned Dean as he tore his eyes away from his son. John did not look at him.

"No, I'm not mad, dude."

"Then why are you acting like it? Sam's coming back to be apart of this family."

John sighed heavily and rubbed his scruffy chin.

"He's not staying, Dean. I just want him to come home, but he's not coming home. He's coming for some short visit and then leaving again to be unprotected and alone."

A lump formed in Dean's throat. He tore his eyes away and glanced at his son. The kid was staring at him, his eyes wide, almost as though he were afraid his father would leave him there. He gave the kid a small, reassuring smile.

"Maybe he'll stay."

It was a fruitless hope, Dean knew it, but he couldn't help but hope nonetheless. As children, Dean and Sammy were inseparable. In fact, when Dean went to school for the first time, Sammy cried something awful. He threw such a fit that for the first week John and Sammy sat outside the school in the Impala. When recess rolled around, Sammy would have his face glued to the window staring at his big brother. Sam's obsession with school started that week. He wanted to go purely just to be with his big brother.

Even as the boys got older, they were close as thieves. They did everything together. They told each other everything. They even had a secret language of winks, smirks, laughs, and gestures. The two could look at each other and instantly knew what the other was thinking. When Sam went off to college, Dean had been heartbroken. He not only lost his brother but also had lost his best friend. No matter how hard John tried, he could never fill the void in his son's heart.

"Dean, he's not staying."

"He has a nephew…"

The concept of family to Dean was vastly different than Sam's viewpoint. Dean lived and breathed family. He would do anything for his family. He would die for his family. He thought that family should stay together through thick and thin, that family should never be abandoned no matter what. Sam took in the comfort of family but also thought that family should not be one's life. He wanted independence, wanted a life away from seedy motel rooms and hunting. He wanted a stable life. If those wants did not coincide with his family, he was willing to sever the binds no matter how hard it was.

"He does," John replied lamely.

"I can't do this alone." Dean's voice cracked slightly.

"You won't be alone. I'll be here. I'll help you. Sam… he may not always be here physically, but he'll always be there for you when you need him."

Dean nodded while running a hand down his face. Without daring to look at his father, he walked away. He ambled slowly towards the swing set. Ben looked up at him with big eyes and a frown. Kneeling down on the balls of his feet, Dean gave his son a small smile.

"You don't want to be here, do you?"

Ben shook his head no.

"Remember that talk we had yesterday? About how I didn't feel like talking when my mom died?"

Ben nodded.

"I know it's hard. You feel like your whole world is crashing in on you. I've felt that before. At the same time, I knew my dad and my brother needed me. They needed me to talk so that they could help me. You gotta talk to me, Ben. You gotta tell me what you need and what you don't want, so I can help you. Do you understand?"

Ben nodded again, tears welling up in his eyes.

"You don't have to talk to anyone else. Just talk to me, okay, dude?"

"Okay," he whispered so quietly that Dean barely heard him.

"What would you like to do, Ben?"

"Go home."

It felt as though a white, hot knife had stabbed Dean in the gut. That was the last thing that he expected to hear from the kid.

"I know, but your mom can't take care of you anymore."

"Why?"

Why – it was the hardest question that Ben could have asked. Dean did not know how to explain to a four year old the concept of death and dying. Hell, he remembered his own father trying to explain that very concept to him. It never made sense in his mind. In fact, it was a concept that Dean still struggled with.

"Your mom… she didn't make it out of the fire in time."

"She not coming home?"

"No, Ben, she can't come home. When people die, they don't come home."

"Why?"

"Because they just can't. When you die you can't go home. You go to a new home. When you die in a very very very long time, you'll be with her again."

Even though Dean did not buy the whole heaven and God and rainbows after death vision, he did not know what else to tell the grieving boy. He wanted to give him some form of hope that he'd see his mom again.

"When will you die?"

"When am I going to die? Not for a very very very long time. You're stuck with me, kid."

Reaching out a hand, he ruffled the kid's hair with a smile. Ben ducked his head away and instead wrapped his arms around his father's neck to lay his head onto his shoulder. Dean hoisted the boy up and made his way towards John, who was still standing in the same place as before. The three Winchesters walked back to the motel room.

Author's Notes – I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Don't forget to leave a review before you leave. Getting reviews makes me work faster on my stories. If you leave an email address, I will reply back to your review.


	3. Together Again

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Three: Together Again"**

The next few days went by quickly. Ben slowly adjusted to the fact that he had a father and a grandfather. In John's words, the kid probably was glad to have some male influences in his life. Although, he seemed to be more at ease with the Winchesters around, his vocals still seemed to be lacking. In fact, he had yet to say one word to his grandfather but allowed the older man to hold his hand when they went out and even give him a kiss goodnight.

In wasn't until Friday morning that Ben had spoken his first words to John, and they were "Lemme go!" Dean had decided to pick Sammy up at the airport, and John was going to stay at the motel with Ben. When Dean tried to leave, Ben had thrown a fit. He screamed, cried, and thrashed in John's arms. Through gasping sobs, he cried for his father and pleaded for his grandfather to let him go. Dean almost suggested they switch places, but John had insisted that he go. He claimed that Ben needed to understand that even if Dean left for a little bit, he'd always come home. So, with a long hug and comforting words, Dean left his hysterical son to go pick up his brother.

When Dean saw his brother walking with a bag slung around his shoulder and his head surveying the airport, Dean smiled. He had missed his kid brother. Sam spotted Dean and offered a weak smile, his eyes searching beyond him and was no doubt looking for their father.

"Hey, Sammy."

"Hey, Dean."

Dean wanted nothing more than to pull his younger brother into a bone-crushing embrace but stopped himself from doing so. Instead, he slapped his brother's arm in greeting, his smile never wavering.

There was a tall, leggy blonde standing behind Sam. Dean thought he must have met the hottie on the plane, and he gushed with pride over his brother. Finally, he was chasing skirt. Dean sidestepped his brother and looked at the blonde.

"Hi, I'm Dean. What are you doing tonight?"

The blonde let out a nervous chuckle and glanced between Dean and Sam as though she didn't know what to say or do.

"Sam…"

Dean looked over at his brother, an eyebrow raised. She didn't seem like just some random hookup you'd meet on a plane. Dean didn't really know how plane hookups went though. He'd never be caught dead on one of those death traps.

"Dean, this is my girlfriend Jessica. Jess, this is my brother Dean."

"Girlfriend?" Dean did a once over of the girl. "You are _way_ out of my brother's league."

"Where's dad?" Sam piped up. "And my nephew?"

Dean glanced at his brother. He had his pissy face on. Dean could only assume that his brother thought he was brought to Indiana on false pretenses with the lack of people welcoming him in the airport.

"Dad's back at the motel with Ben."

"I'm taking it he's not happy I'm here?"

Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face. So, it begins.

"Just because he didn't come to welcome you in an airport doesn't mean he doesn't want you here. He's watching Ben, getting some quality grandfather-grandson time."

"Dad and quality time really shouldn't be used in the same sentence."

"So, this is how it's going to be? You and dad already fighting and you haven't even been in the same room yet. That's just great, Sam."

"Dad was the one who said if I was going to leave, I should stay gone."

Dean turned to Jess, his smile long gone from his face.

"Let me guess, he bashes our dad for a horrible childhood and bitches that I don't join him?"

"Uh…" Jessica shot a nervous glance to Sam, unsure of what to say.

"It was horrible, Dean! After mom died… it was like he created this crusade. If it weren't for pictures, I wouldn't even know what mom looks like. We never had a home, don't you think that would upset mom if she knew that?"

"We had a home, Sam! Just because it didn't involve four walls and a roof doesn't mean we didn't have a home! Our home was each other! Our home was the Impala!"

"Right, because when you say home, everyone thinks of a car."

Dean shook his head. Perhaps it was a mistake calling Sam, because he obviously wasn't going to let go that he didn't have the easiest childhood. Dean understood that their childhood sucked. Hell, Dean would have rather lived in Kansas forever with his mom alive and his dad with a normal job. He'd have loved to live the apple-pie life. The fact of the matter was, it didn't work out that way. It sucked traveling from city to city, going to crappy school after crappy school. It was life, though, and their dad did the best he could with what was handed to him.

Honestly, Dean would have done things the same way his father had if he were in his shoes. If he had a wife and she died from something supernatural, if he knew thousands were dying a year due to creatures that people believed were fairy tales, he'd turn to a life of hunting too. How could anyone who knew the truth not become a hunter?

"Dad thought we could all go out to breakfast. You going to go?" Dean asked harsher than he intended.

"Yeah, of course, Dean."

"Sounds great!" Jess added with forced cheer in her voice.

After hauling the suitcases in the back of the Impala, Dean slid behind the driver's seat. Sam took shotgun and Jess took the back seat. They drove with Metallica blaring throughout the automobile. After ten minutes, Sam reached out and turned off the radio.

"Hey!" protested Dean.

"Dad let you drive the car? He was always so anal about nobody driving it but him. I remember him teaching us to drive and he nearly had a heart attack."

"Dude, I own this car now. Dad bought a truck. Said it was more practical for the job."

"Dad gave you the car?"

"Yeah, last year for my birthday."

The two lapsed into silence again. Dean turned up the music again, although not as loud as it had previously been. In another ten minutes, they parked outside of the motel. Dean cut the engine, glancing over at Sammy who looked nervous.

Dean carried Jess' bag into the motel while Sam carried his own. Twisting the key into the lock, Dean opened the door to see his four-year-old running towards him at full speed. Ben wrapped his arms around Dean's legs and whispered, "You came back." Dropping the suitcase onto the floor, Dean reached down to pull the kid up into his arms and gave him a proper hug.

Sam hung behind Dean, his eyes glued on his nephew. The floorboards creaked, and Sam tore his eyes away from the scene in front of him. His father was ambling over, a sad smile gracing his features. Immediately, he pulled his youngest into a brief hug, patting his back a few times before pulling back.

"Look at you…" John whispered. "You look good, dude."

"You too," Sam managed to find his voice. "Uh, Dad, I want you to meet someone. This is my girlfriend Jessica Moore. Jess, this is my dad John Winchester."

John backed away from his soon to see the pretty blonde standing awkwardly in the doorway. Upon hearing her name, she entered the room and stuck out her hand to John. There was a huge, excited grin plastered on her porcelain face.

"It's great to finally meet Sam's family."

John took the young lady's hand into his. He shook it while shooting both his sons both a look. When the handshake broke, he looked back at Jess.

"Well, it's good to know you have great taste in men," John greeted. "You… wow, I'm sorry, you look amazingly like my wife."

"Thank you. I've seen pictures. She was so beautiful."

"Uh, hey, Ben, you wanna go out to breakfast with your uncle?"

John turned his attention to his grandson. Ben lifted his head from his father's shoulder.

"Yeah," he whispered.

"Atta boy!"

John walked over and ruffled the child's brown locks. Sam took a few steps towards his brother, peering at his nephew. He let out a small chuckle. The kid looked just like Dean at that age – minus the difference in hair color.

"Ben, this is your Uncle Sammy and that pretty lady who is way outta his league is his girlfriend Jessica."

The kid looked at each of the newcomers. Lifting up a hand, he waved feebly at them both but refused to say anything. In return, Sam waved back at the kid and Jess said hi.

After introductions, the group of Winchesters and Jess piled into the Impala. John took the driver's seat while Dean and Ben sat beside him. Sam and Jess piled into the back. Down the road was a small breakfast diner.

They filed into a corner booth. Sam and Dean filed in first. Jess took a seat next to her boyfriend while Ben placed himself next to his father. John took the end next to his grandson. Dean bent down low to show Ben items on the menu, asking him questions about what he liked to eat. The kid didn't say anything, just shook or nodded his head.

"So, Jessica, what do you do?" asked John who was the only one not looking at a menu.

"I attend Stanford with Sam. I'm studying psychology."

"What do you want to do when you graduate?"

"I'm thinking a child psychologist. It seems like a difficult yet rewarding career to be able to help children overcome emotional traumas or through hard times."

"That's admirable."

Sam glanced up at his father through his fringe of his hair as though he couldn't quite believe how genuinely interested John seemed to be about Jess and Stanford. Before John could be any more inquisitive, the waitress arrived to take their drink order. Everyone ordered coffee except for Ben who opted for orange juice.

"I have to pee," Ben said quietly to Dean once the waitress left.

"I can take him," offered John.

Ben looked up at his father before looking at his grandfather. John scooted out of the booth and held his hand out. After Dean encouraged him that he promised not to move an inch until he got back, Ben decided to go with John. Slowly, Ben grasped his hand and they slowly walked to the restroom. John's head was tilted down, his usual rumbling voice talking to the child.

"He's a cute kid," said Jess.

"He is. He, uh, he's having a hard time since his mom died. He rarely talks. Then, this morning I left him with Dad while I picked you up… he cried so much. He didn't want me to leave."

"Why didn't Dad just come?" questioned Sam.

"I wanted to pick you up, plus Dad said it would do Ben some good to know that if I leave, I'd always come back for him. I think since Lisa died, he just thinks everyone's gonna leave him. He's scared."

"You took parenting advice from Dad?"

"Sam," Dean said in a warning voice. "It worked, because Ben's talking more now. Ben refused to say a word to Dad for the past four days. Today, look at him, he's talking to him. He willingly left my side. That's progress."

"How did you know it wouldn't back fire and Ben would become more withdrawn?" Sam pushed.

"Because, Sam, when Mom died… I didn't talk for weeks. I was constantly afraid that you and Dad were going to die in some fire. I wouldn't let you two out of my sight. Dad knew I had to believe that it wasn't going to happen that way. Dad's dealt with this before, so I trust his judgment. Plus, Dad loves that kid. He would never do anything that would hurt him. You should see him, Sammy, he's so happy."

Sam nodded, a soft smile dancing on his face. His eyes looked towards where his father and nephew had disappeared. A hope filled him up. Maybe, just maybe, they could repair their relationship.

When they reappeared, Ben broke free and ran to the booth with a toothy grin on his face. He bounced into the booth and sat down next to his father. John slowly slid into the booth. The waitress was not far behind. She poured them each a cup of caffeine and placed several packets of sugar and creamer into the center of the table. She slid Ben his orange juice and asked if they were ready to order.

"I'm fine. Just keep the coffee coming." John started.

"Okay, I can do that. How are we doing the checks today?"

"Just one check," John replied. "I got it."

"Can I have the monster breakfast platter with sunny-side up eggs and for the kid a… ham or sausage?" Dean looked down at Ben.

"Ham," he said quietly.

"And a ham kid's platter?"

"The vegetarian omelet, thanks," Sam ordered next.

"Oh, that sounds good. Can I have that too actually?" Jess said with a smile. "Thank you."

The waitress took their menus and said she'd put the order in right away.

"Thank you for breakfast, Mister Winchester."

"No problem. Call me John."

Jess looked over at Sam, she was obviously excited that she was getting along with his family so easily. Sam just wondered if it would last. The whole family interaction seemed to be going too cheesy 1950's family sitcom.

"How's school going, Sammy?" asked John.

"Good. I like my classes, and I think I do want to go to law school. I know it's a little early to think about, but I think next semester I might start picking up some LSAT books. I want my pick of law schools."

"You were always geeky like that," Dean chimed in with a shit-eating grin. "I'm actually surprised you haven't started studying already."

Sam chuckled. He missed Dean's wise cracks and jabs. He missed the brotherly teasing. Surprisingly, he missed the little diners his dad would choose which all seemed to have the best coffee and food. Sam did not have that skill set. He hunted around Palo Alto for months before he found a diner he deemed adequate to eat at. During finals, Sam would always be at that diner into the late hours of night drinking coffee and studying.

"What kind of lawyer?" questioned John.

"Uh, I don't know yet. Figured I'd wait until law school and see what I like."

The group ate their breakfast with small chitchat. It was mostly all comfortable small talk. Sam was surprised at how well his family was behaving. He was sure that they would have embarrassed him in front of Jess or at least had been hostile by the whole school conversation. They weren't. That shocked Sam more than anything.

At the end of the meal, Jess excused herself to the ladies room while they waited for the check. As soon as she was out of earshot, Sam turned towards his family. He needed to know why they were acting the way they were.

"Okay, seriously, what is going on with you guys? You're both acting like we're the Brady's or something."

"You want us to be asses in front of your little girlfriend?" asked Dean.

"By the way, Sam, why would you bring her here?" questioned John.

"Oh, I get it, you're playing nice in front of Jess but really aren't that interested in me or my life at college."

"Sam, would you just stop? I get that I've made mistakes, all right, but I'm trying to form a relationship with you again. But you make it so goddamn hard sometimes," hissed John. "I haven't seen you in a year and a half. When I do see you, you bring some girl here. What if we were hunting? What the hell would we have done then?"

"You're not hunting though. I came to support Dean in getting custody of Ben!"

"I told you about the fire," piped Dean who slipped an arm around a cowering Ben. "It's how Mom died. What if the thing that killed Mom is here? What if we need to start hunting as soon as this stupid court date is over? What are you going to tell Goldilocks then?"

The three men quieted down when the waitress walked over and deposited the check on the table. John grabbed it and stuffed his credit card into the holder. With a tight smile, he handed it to the waitress. Once she was out of earshot, he glared at Sam.

"I'm happy you came, Sammy-"

"It's Sam, Dad. Sammy's a chubby twelve-year-old. I'm nineteen now."

"Okay, _Sam_, I'm happy you came. I'm happy you took an interest in what's going on with this family. Honestly, though, it was irresponsible for you to bring Jessica here. What if that thing that killed your mom is in Cicero? We'd have to move fast, and there'd be no time to occupy your girlfriend."

"If you guys need to go hunting, I'll keep her busy. I vowed I would never hunt again. I'm done with that. I want a normal life. I don't want to hunt things that go bump in the night."

"You're saying if the thing that killed Mom is here, you wouldn't join us in the hunt?" questioned Dean. "You're a selfish brat, Sam."

Sam sighed loudly, his head shaking.

"You don't even know that it's here. You're only speculating because there was a fire. Every fire doesn't point towards something supernatural just because it did one time with Mom."

"Yeah, you're right, Sam. It's a total coincidence that a fire started in the home of a son I never knew about. It's a total coincidence that fire seems to follow this family around like a parasite," snapped Dean.

"Are you listening to yourself? It's like the two of you are battling windmills here. You're grasping at straws to link together two fires that probably had nothing to do with one another!"

John opened his mouth to retort but stopped short when he saw Jessica approaching the table. If Jess picked up on the tension at the table, she made no acknowledgement of it.

Once the waitress was back with the card, John threw a few dollars on the table. Just because he was going to use a fraudulent card for a decent meal didn't mean he was going to jib the waitress out of a tip. The group walked in silence to the Impala. They were going to run back to the motel to change for court and then head to the courthouse. Hopefully, the whole ordeal wouldn't take long and there would be no problems.

Author's Notes – I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. Don't worry; a hunt will crop up soon enough! Don't forget to leave a review. They do make me work harder and faster. :)


	4. Sulfur

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Four: Sulfur"**

Dean adjusted the tie around his neck. He wanted the whole court date to be over and done with. He wanted the judge to grant him full custody as quickly as possible, so they could get out the hell out of dodge and figure out what happened to Lisa.

John stood next to him in a navy suit. Ben rested in his arms. His head lay on his grandfather's shoulder, his little arms wrapped around his neck. The kid looked tired and scared as he watched the people rush around the courthouse.

Sam and Jess were there too. Sam looked like a little kid playing dress up in his suit with his long hair and baby face. Jess looked like a kindergarten teacher next to him with a charcoal pencil skirt and blouse on with her hair wrapped around in a bun at the nape of her neck.

Dean was happy that Sammy and Jess were there. He missed his kid brother more than he was willing to admit. Honestly, if Sam was going to go to college, become a lawyer, get married, have kids, have that apple pie life… then he wanted to be apart of it. He wanted to be friends with his wife and be the fun uncle to his kids. Sam could settle down. He could be their vacation and home away from hunting. Looking back at Ben, he thought about the kid having little cousins to know and play with. Ben would never have a little brother or sister so maybe he could become close to a cousin – close like Dean and Sam used to be.

Dean's gaze drifted off his son's face to see a man standing in the corner staring at their small family. He was clean-shaven, with dark trusses of hair on top of his head. He was dressed in a suit with a long, beige trench coat. A growing paranoid filled him. He glanced around the courthouse briefly to see if anyone else was watching them in the shuffle of people. There was no one. Upon glancing back at the corner, the man was gone.

"Dean, can I talk to you?" asked Sam.

Reaching out to ruffle Ben's hair, he said he'd be right back before stepping away from the small group with his brother. Sam's hands were stuffed in his pant pockets, his gaze fixated on Jessica no doubt.

"What's up?"

"I'm sorry about flipping out on you and Dad at the diner."

"Dude, save it. No chick flick moments."

"No, Dean, look, I appreciate you and Dad acting like normal human beings for me in front of Jess."

Dean sighed, thinking back to the conversation he had with his father the previous night. They had both agreed that they needed to ask Sam a lot of questions about college, be interested in his life, try to be nice and not demanding that he come back to hunting. They had to extend the olive branch if they wanted Sammy to be a part of their lives. Dean agreed to play nice, agreed to be overly open if he had to be just to have Sam come home. John agreed to the same terms. Except, when Jessica stepped off the plane with Sam, Dean knew immediately that their Brady Bunch plan would blow up in their faces. John would be upset that Sam brought some chick with him.

"Yeah."

"You nervous?"

"About talking with the judge?" Dean replied. "Nah, I'll charm her."

Sam chuckled and Dean only managed to force a small smile. Truth was, he was petrified. Even though Ben had only been in his custody four days, he started to think of Ben as his whole world. The kid had his blood pumping through his veins, looked just like the Campbell side of their family, depended on Dean more than anyone had ever depended on him. Dean wasn't prepared to lose him.

"Dean, just… don't sleep with her. This is one situation _that_ would not help you."

He chuckled.

"Don't worry. That's plan B."

"For Ben's sake, I hope you are joking."

Before Dean could retort, a leggy brunette called out his name. She motioned him to follow her into the judge's chambers. Looking back at Ben, Dean waved briefly before following her.

The judge was seated behind her desk, a warm smile painted across her face and a thick envelope closed on her desk. Bile rose in Dean's throat, but he pushed the feeling back. Taking a seat across from the girl, he tried to appear calm.

"My name is Janet Reinhart. I am going to decide Benjamin's placement. How are you feeling, Mr. Winchester?"

"Never been better."

"No need to be nervous. My job is to place Benjamin in a sufficient, caring household. You are the boy's father, so that already gives you some brownie points."

Dean nodded, his mind running over the explanations for his living situations. His dad and him had rehearsed their story for days.

"I'm going to ask you some questions. Just answer honestly and don't get offended by anything I ask, alright?"

"I can do that."

"So, I know you have never met Benjamin until a few days ago. I also know that you never knew Benjamin existed. Are you sure that you are his father?"

"Yeah, I got a DNA test the day after we picked him up. My dad suggested I get one done, just to cut through some red tape."

"That is very smart. Can you tell me what your relationship was with his mother? Did the relationship end badly? I'm trying to figure out why she never told you about him."

A lot of images came to Dean's mind. In fact, most of them were of Lisa bent over various pieces of furniture and testing out just how flexible she was. It had been the best sex of his life. Dean never knew that you could bend a person in the ways he bended Lisa. Through the vivid sex positions, Dean remembered one other thing about Lisa. That was her smile. She was always smiling. They were genuine smiles that showed all her pearly whites and gums. She was so vibrant, so full of life. In fact, if his dad and brother weren't waiting for him in Pennsylvania, he would have stayed longer to get to know her. It had been the first time in his life that he actually wanted to stay somewhere and not hit the road.

"I met her at a bar. I was here for only a few days. We had a nice weekend. I never saw her again."

"Are you in a relationship now?"

"No, I'm not seeing anyone."

"Do you have any family members who would help you out if you needed it?"

"My dad. Ben's already getting to know him. They've become close. My dad's actually with him now." Dean shifted in his chair. "I got a little brother too. He attends Stanford. I'm thinking about moving out to California so our family can be close. I think it'd do Ben some good to have family around."

"Settle down in California? That sounds warm and sunny. I was actually going to ask you about your living situation. You have no known address."

Dean forced a smile, his mind quickly replaying his father's words in his head.

"My mom died when I was four actually. Same age as Ben. Same way too. A house fire. It's… ironic. Anyways, my dad just didn't want to stay in Lawrence after my mom's death. Wanted to keep moving. So we did. It was fun. Meeting new people, seeing new places. I guess, I just was close to my dad. Just kept traveling with him." Dean licked his lips. "It had its benefits but it was hard too. For Ben, I'd settle down in one place. I think my dad would too, for Ben."

Dean felt a weight lifted off his shoulders. He nailed it. The whole story his dad told him to tell, he got it out all out in a believable format. He was feeling good about his chances. Hell, if they said he couldn't have custody, he'd kidnap the kid if he had to. There was no way they were going to take Ben away from him.

"Can I talk to Ben?"

"Yeah, he's a little shy. You might have a hard time getting him to talk."

"What if we both went out, you introduced me, we talk for a little bit, then maybe I can bring him in here to talk to him alone. I have no qualms about him warming up in the presence of your family if it'll make him more comfortable."

Dean led the judge to where his family was waiting. John was still holding Ben, rocking him slightly in his arms as they whispered to one another. Sam and Jess stood not far away, talking in rapid secession and smiling.

John must have told Ben that Dean was back, because the kid lifted his head and reached out a hand to his father. Transferring Ben into his arms, he gave the kid a tight hug before turning towards the judge.

"Ben, this is Judge Reinhart. She wanted to meet you."

"Hi, Ben, how you are today?" she asked with a warm smile.

"Good," he whispered.

Ben tightened his grip around Dean's neck. He laid his cheek against Dean's cheek.

"You seem very close to your dad. Do you like him a lot?"

Ben nodded his head.

"Can we go sit down and talk about your dad for a little bit?"

The judge looked at Dean for support when Ben hesitated.

"I'll stay right here with Granddad and Uncle Sammy waiting for you," Dean told him.

Ben's bottom lip slid between his teeth. He glanced around at the people close to him before slowly, very slowly, nodding his head. Dean set the kid down on the ground. The judge held out her hand and led him to her chambers. Ben looked back at his father as they walked, a pleading look in his eyes.

Once they turned around the corner, John turned towards his son. Clapping a hand on his shoulder, he asked him how everything went. Sam and Jess migrated closer to listen in.

"Okay, I guess. I was honest with her. Told her I'd settle down for Ben."

"Are you really going to settle down?" questioned Sam.

Dean looked up at his brother and hoped that he understood that settling down wasn't an option. They were hunters. They saved people's lives. They were heroes. There was no way he could give that up. He would travel the country with Ben, teach him how to hunt, protect him.

"The judge seemed to like me. She likes that I'm his biological father. Can't beat blood," Dean said instead.

"I told you that you'd have the upper hand in this just because you're his father," commented John.

"You know, if you're ever near Palo Alto, you have to stop by and stay a day or two," Jess offered. "I know Sam would love to get to know Ben."

"I was already planning on it," Dean responded with a smirk, his gaze catching Sam's.

Small talk was made as they waited for Ben to return. They talked about how Jess and Sammy were leaving in a little over twenty-four hours. John was eerily quiet throughout the conversation. Dean knew he was worried about Sam in California alone, especially since he suspected that the thing that killed Mary had returned.

Within ten minutes, Ben reappeared with the judge. The kid broke out running towards his father who picked him up in one swift motion. With a smile, the judge told Dean to take Ben home and have a nice evening.

"That was quick," commented Dean.

"What were they going to do, Dean? You have a clean record, you're his biological father, Lisa wanted you to have him, it was a done deal," explained John.

They made their way out to the Impala in the parking lot. Everyone piled into the car to go back to the motel room. After arriving, they group all stood awkwardly in the parking lot as though not exactly knowing where to go or what to.

"Well, I guess Jess and I are gonna check in," announced Sam.

"Why get a room for just a night?" questioned John. "Take my bed. I'll sleep on a roll-away."

Sam glanced sideways at Dean who turned his attention on Ben. He wasn't going to get involved.

"Dad, five people in one motel room? That's a little cramped."

"I was just offering to be nice, Sam. Do what you want."

"Sam," Jess interjected, "it's one night. We can spend the extra time with your family. I don't mind. Honestly, the plane tickets were more than we wanted to spend. So, we could save some money."

Sam opened his mouth but promptly closed it. Instead, he just nodded his head in agreement. The five made their way to their room and settled in.

Dean sat on his bed, laptop opened in front of him. He was looking for any sign that something supernatural was in Cicero at the time of Lisa's death. If they could find a link between a monster and Lisa's death, they could be closer to finding out what killed his mom.

Sam sat on the other bed, a textbook open in front of him. He had a test in public policy on Tuesday, so he insisted he study for a bit. John sat at the little table, feet propped up and his journal open in front of him. Across from John sat Ben and Jess. They were drawing pictures together. Dean had to admit, he kind of liked Jessica.

She was the kind of girl who was all smiles and positive attitude. She was the kind of girl who would find herself in the situation of a damsel in distress; someone his family had saved hundreds of times before. She was beautiful and kind. Dean could understand why Sam had picked her.

"This is my big sister Sadie," Jess said in a soft tone as she pointed out the people she drew in her picture to Ben. "That's me. Those are my little twin brother and sister, Pacey and Parker. Tell me about your drawing."

"That's me," Ben whispered softly. "That's my mommy. That's the man who killed my mommy."

Dean looked up at the pair. Jessica looked at him frantically, eyes wide and face slowly paling. The room was silent for a few seconds, nobody moved or said anything. Suddenly, there was a loud bang. John was out of his seat and standing over his grandson to get a good look at the picture. In a heartbeat, Dean was out of bed, looming next to Ben as well.

There were three stick figures in the picture. Ben stood to one side. On the top of the picture, as though the figure was floating in the air, was a woman with long brown hair. Below Lisa, was a tall man with bright yellow eyes.

"Ben, why does that man have yellow eyes?" questioned John.

The boy only shrugged his shoulders, his bottom lip fastened between his teeth. Reaching out, Dean pulled Ben into an embrace, allowing the boy to bury his face into his t-shirt. Dean glanced up at his father. They needed to get to that house.

The next morning, at the crack of dawn, John woke up. Slowly, he crept around the motel room changing clothes and grabbing his keys. He was silently out the door in less than five minutes.

The sun crept slowly into the sky, casting dark shadows on the perfectly manicured lawns. One house was not a cookie cutter version like all the others. Half of the house was gone, replaced by ash and shambles. Cutting the engine, John hauled his frame out of his truck and walked towards what had at one point been a home.

Upon entering the house, the whole right was painted in ash and ceased to exist. Remnants of furniture were reduced to powder. The whole exterior wall was gone, only a few planks still standing. The house next door was exposed. Looking up, the ceiling was mostly gone, darkened pieces of wood hanging on by threads.

John ignored that side of the house and walked to the left where the dining room and kitchen were situated. They were untouched by the fire. There was a staircase; half of it was destroyed due to the fire. There was no way he could investigate there. John walked around the only two rooms that were still accessible, looking for any type of evidence when his cell phone rang.

"Hello?"

_"You know, I haven't slept thinking about what you did,"_ a female voice hissed at him. _"I hope you're happy, John. You destroyed him!"_

"Who is this?"

_"Who is this? Who is this? Are you serious? It's Kate."_

Suddenly, the phone call became all too clear. John froze in his spot and licked his lips. He had totally forgotten.

"I forgot."

_"You forgot? That's all you have to say for yourself? That's rich, John. He was crushed. He was so upset that he didn't come out of his room all yesterday. You better be on your way and you better have a good excuse on why you weren't here yesterday."_

"I'm not coming, Kate. I'm tied up in Indiana."

_"Doing what?"_

John sighed, running his free hand down his face. He paced the living room, his eyes glancing lazily around the room.

"Kate-"

_"Don't Kate me. You tell me what's more important than seeing your own son! You promised Adam you'd be here bright and early Friday morning!"_

"It's my grandson. His mom died. My other son needed me and Adam just… he slipped my mind."

_"Your other son? You have more kids? Do you treat them like trash just like Adam?"_

"Listen, Kate, you do-"

John trailed off, his gaze resting on the windowsill. There was a yellow powder that coated the window. There was so much of the stuff that some of it had trickled to the floor. John wiped two fingers in the residue. He sniffed it. Sulfur.

_"I what, John?"_

"I'm gonna have to call you back."

_"Don't you dare! We're talking about this now! If you don't, you will never see Adam again. Do you understand me?"_

"I'll call you tonight, Kate."

John hung up. His heart seemed to skip a beat. He had thought for the past couple of years that it was a demon that killed Mary. He could remember a shadow of a man standing in the front window of Sammy's nursery in the blaze of fire as he stood outside with his youngest in his arms and Dean leaning against his leg crying. No other supernatural creature seemed to make sense except a demon. Now, he had proof.

John looked down at the cell phone clenched in his hands. He debated for several seconds before he dialed the all too familiar number. He hadn't talked to her in years. He couldn't face her after what he had done. It was too painful. Except, he swallowed his pride and dialed. He needed to know if there were any more fires he could track. She would be his best bet to finding out fast.

_"Hello?"_ a sleepy voice answered.

"It's John. I know I shouldn't be callin' you, but I need to know if you've heard anything about supernatural fires lately."

_"John? Winchester?"_

"I… I'm sorry, Ellen. I shouldn't have called. I just… you always have information."

_"About supernatural fires? I don't think so. I mean, I could tell you the latest gossip on werewolves or shape shifters, but spontaneous supernatural fires aren't very common."_

"What about demons?"

_"John, what's going on?"_

"Have any hunters come in talking about a demon hunt? Any at all?"

John could hear his heart beating in his ears. He paced the dining room, his head spinning. He needed a lead now more than any other time. He was so close. He could taste it.

"_Uh, Bobby Singer was in last week talking about a demon hunt in Kentucky."_

"Fuck, Singer? I don't want to talk to that asshole. He threatened to kill me in front of my kids. Can you call him? Ask him about it. Don't mention my name."

_"Bobby was just upset about what happened to Bill."_

"Shit, I'm sorry, Ellen. You probably think I'm the most insensitive asshole there ever lived."

_"You are an asshole, but I wouldn't say the most insensitive. Look, John, that hunt… it's in the past. I may not know what exactly went down, but you and Bill were friends. It was a hunt that went wrong. Hunts go wrong all the time. It's not the safest career there ever was."_

John couldn't say anything. He felt a lump in his throat. Flashes of Bill lying on the cold, hard ground with blood everywhere clouded his vision. He could remember the weight of the gun in his hand. He could hear Jo's blood-curling cries as he told the family that Bill wasn't coming home.

_"I'll call Bobby when it becomes a decent hour and keep my ears open for demon talk."_

"I'm sorry about Bill."

_"Me too. I'm just glad you're not being a stranger anymore. You were a good friend, John."_

The line died. John stood in the half-destroyed house feeling as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders. Glancing down, John stared at the yellow sulfuric residue on his fingers.

Author's Notes – Sorry it took so long for the new chapter to come out. I was in the midst of finals last week. Anyways, please leave a review. The hunt starts next chapter. :)


	5. On the Road

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Five: On the Road"**

The next morning, Jess went on a walk around town. She said she wanted to buy her siblings a small Indiana keepsake. Sam half expected that she just wanted to give the family some time alone. Luckily she did, because John had a lot to say that could not have been said in front of Jessica.

John explained how he went to Lisa's house that morning, how he had found an abundance of sulfur. Dean sank down into his bed and Ben immediately cuddled next to him. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he listened to the adults talking. Sam half suspected that Ben knew exactly what they were talking about.

"How do you kill a demon?" asked Sam.

"You don't. You just send them packing back to hell," replied John.

"There must be a way to torch the suckers," Dean added.

"There's an old fairy tale that says Samuel Colt made a mystical gun that could kill anything back during the Alamo."

"That's a pretty screwed up fairy tale," Dean retorted.

Sam sat down on Dean's bed.

"It can kill anything? Where is it?" questioned Sam.

"It's a story, Sam. The gun doesn't exist. The only known owner of the gun was Colt. If it were real, there'd be a paper trail. Every hunter and supernatural being would be after it if it really existed," explained John.

"There has to be something else that could kill a demon. Everything has to die," reasoned Dean.

John nodded his head but said nothing. He sank down in a chair by the little table. He stared at his sons and grandson.

"What are you guys going to do?" asked Sam.

"What do you mean us? You're not going to come?" Dean snapped.

"I got school, Dean."

Dean merely laughed, his head shaking in what was clearly disappointment. He adjusted Ben on his lap and held the kid tightly to his chest. A part of him truly thought that if they could prove the connection between Lisa and their mom that Sam would come hunting with them. Not only did they have the connection, they knew what had killed their mom. Dean simply could not comprehend how Sam could just go back to college and not do something.

"Sam, I think you should come with us," urged John.

"No, I'm not a hunter anymore. I'm in college!"

"We're stronger as a whole, Sam," argued Dean. "We need you on this. Hell, I _need_ you on this with me."

Sam glanced at his big brother apologetically. There was no way he was going to give up the life that he had started to build for himself. He was happy. He had an apartment, a job, attending college, living with his girlfriend. He was looking at a future of settling down and being normal. He couldn't let his family drag him back into the dark pit that was hunting.

"I'm sorry," was all Sam could manage to say.

"You're a selfish bitch, Sam, you know that?" snapped Dean.

Dean stood up and situated Ben on his hip. The small boy immediately relaxed in his father's arms, his wide eyes staring at his uncle.

"Your family needs you. Dad needs me, I need you, and now you have a nephew who needs you. You couldn't give a shit, because it doesn't fit into your perfect lifestyle."

"Dean…"

"I'm so glad that Goldilocks is more important than your family. Go to hell, Sam."

Dean grabbed his and Ben's jackets before storming out of the motel room. Sam sat on his brother's bed, an emptiness filling him. He looked up at his father, tearing burning his eyes. It took everything he had in him to hold the tears at bay.

"Let me guess, you're going to tell me to go to hell too, huh, Dad?"

"Every father wants his sons to be happy. I get that you're happy at college. You have everything that you ever wanted in life. It took me awhile to come to terms with that. It took me awhile to realize that Dean and I aren't what makes you happy."

"Dad, you and Dean mean everything to me. You're my family."

"There's one thing, Sammy, that a father wants more than happiness for his sons. He wants them safe. He wants them to be protected. Right now, Sam, you're not safe. You're not protected. You're in California all alone… vulnerable. So, I'm sorry, but I could care less about your happiness right now. You are in danger. This demon is a bad sonofabitch. It killed your mom. It killed Lisa and almost killed your nephew. You just want to go back to college and pretend everything is normal? This demon could come for you. It could hurt you… it could kill you. I am asking you… begging you to stay with us. Don't go back to California."

Sam could no longer hold his tears at bay. They poured down his face as he roughly brushed them away with the back of his hand.

"I can't, Dad. I won't stay. I can protect myself, just tell me how to do it."

"What would Dean and I if you died? It would destroy your brother. You know that, right?"

"I'm not going to die, Dad. I'm just going to school!"

"I can't talk to you, Sam, because you do whatever the hell you want. Dean would do anything for you, for this family. If you asked him to jump off a cliff, he'd ask you which one you would prefer he jump from. Dean's unselfish like that. He would do anything that you ask of him. He'd die for you. All we ask is to stay with us, Sam, so we can protect you, and you turn your nose up at us. You don't think that Dean and I notice that? That you look down on us as some trash, because we hunt? We unselfishly save lives, Sam. That's not something to be ashamed of."

John stood up, shoving his journal into his back pocket. He shrugged on his leather jacket and grabbed his keys off the table.

"Dad…"

"When do you need to be at the airport?"

"Tomorrow at 6 AM."

"If Dean doesn't want to take you, then I will.

"Dad… I'm not ashamed of you or Dean. I just… I hate hunting. I want a better life than that."

"Yeah, I know. I'm gonna head to the library, do some research."

With that, John was gone. Sam sat in the empty motel by himself. A part of him wished that he had never answered the phone when Dean called him, wished he had never purchased a plane ticket and flew all the way out to Indiana.

John had arrived back shortly past three and took Jess and Sam out to dinner. Dean and Ben were nowhere to be found. In fact, Dean didn't show back up at the motel until just past nine at night with a half-asleep Ben cradled in his arms. The two brothers didn't say anything to one another. They simply went to bed early.

It was a little past three in the morning when the entire motel room awoke. Ben was whimpering in his sleep, thrashing about the bed. Dean was propped up on his elbow, whispering comforting words into his son's ear as he gently tried to stir him awake. Sam turned to his side and watched his brother's silhouette.

He could remember when he was little; Dean and him had shared a bed. They had shared a bed until Sam was eight years old, because Sam didn't want to sleep by himself especially when their dad wasn't home. He felt comforted knowing his brother was beside him, felt safe when they bumped elbows in the middle of the night.

"Ben, shhh, it's okay."

Ben jolted awake and burst into tears. Dean sat up in bed and pulled the crying child into his arms. He rocked him slowly back in forth. His usually rumbling tone could be heard softly throughout the motel room. Dean tried to talk as quietly as possible as he said comforting words to his son.

"He killed my mom," Ben murmured into his father's t-shirt.

"Shh, Ben, he's not here. He's never going to hurt you. I promise."

There was a creak, and John ambled across the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Reaching out a hand, he brushed his grandson's hair out of his eyes. Dean looked up at his father seeking comfort and strength.

"Sh-she on the ceiling and the man made fire a-appear."

"Hey, Ben, it's okay. It's all over with," John murmured in his usual gruff rumble.

Ben continued to cry for the next half hour until he was too exhausted to stay awake. He fell asleep, curled up in his father's arms. Dean didn't have the heart to move him and risk him waking up. So, he settled against the headboard and cradled his son.

John didn't go back to bed either. He sat next to Dean, his back against the headboard. They sat in comfortable silence together, watching the stars through the window and waiting for the sun to crop up.

At five o'clock, the alarm went off throughout the motel room. Sam and Jess quickly showered. They packed up their things. Dean carefully carried Ben to the Impala and settled him into the back seat. The kid curled up in the back and continued to sleep. Sam slipped into the passenger's seat of the Impala while Jess opted to drive with John.

The two brothers sat in silence for most of the car ride as Dean followed his father to the airport. Sam watched Ben sleep in the rearview mirror.

"Dean," Sam whispered after fifteen minutes. "I'm sorry about yesterday. I know I'm being selfish, but… I deserve to be happy too, you know?"

"Yeah, me too."

"Dean…"

"We're good, Sam."

Dean glanced over at his brother briefly before turning his attention back to the road.

"Look, when you get close to finding the demon, when you actually go after it and know how to kill it, call me. I'd like to be there when you kill Mom's murderer.'

"You sure that won't intervene in your life?"

"I don't want to be a hunter, Dean, and I know you don't want to be mister normal. I'm trying here to meet you halfway. I want us to be brothers again. If that means going on the occasional hunt, I'm okay with that." Sam cleared his throat. "But, man, that means you gotta meet me halfway too. You gotta come to my house for Thanksgiving and Christmas. You gotta bring Ben around to see his uncle."

"I'd like that," admitted Dean.

Upon arriving at the airport, Sam gave his brother and father a hug goodbye. He quickly gave his sleeping nephew a kiss on the forehead as well. Jessica reached out and gave both John and Dean a hug as well. She commented that they should come to Santa Barbara for Christmas at her parent's house – the more the merrier.

Sam wrapped an arm around Jessica and watched both black cars disappear down the road. Jess rested her head on her boyfriend's shoulder, a smile playing across her face.

"That wasn't so bad," she commented.

"Nah, I think it was good. I didn't realize just how much I missed Dean and my dad."

"You think they'd come for Christmas? My parents would love to have them."

"Uh, I dunno, Jess. We'll have to wait and see. You ready to head back?"

"Hmm… yeah. When we get back, I am going to do ungodly things to you."

Sam laughed.

"Oh, yeah? Let's see if they'll get the plane moving then!"

He placed a kiss on her temple before grabbing her bag from her and walking into the airport.

Ever since they got on the plane back to Palo Alto, Jess was chatting up a storm. Now that she had met the mysterious figures in his family, she couldn't stop asking questions to get to know them better. She told Sam he didn't give his father enough credit for all that he had done for them, how hard it would have been to raise two kids alone and lose the love of his life, how he did the best he could for how damaged he was. She told him how much she liked Dean, commenting that he seemed like a wonderful father and cared deeply for his family. She was excited for the next time they would see each other.

Sam parked Jess' car outside their apartment complex. They grabbed their bags from the trunk and made their way up to the fourth floor. Jess twisted the key into the lock and bumped her hip into the door to open it up. Sam dropped his bags on the floor and reached to turn on the light in the entryway. It would not turn on.

"Burned out," commented Sam.

"I don't understand that. Brady was over here two weeks ago to study, and he changed the light for me."

"Maybe it's the light. I'll call the landlord tomorrow after history to check the wiring."

Jess fumbled her way into the living room to turn overhead light, hoping it would shine enough into the entryway so they could see what they were doing. Sam was looming behind her, ready to collapse on the couch. The bags seemed less important than kicking up his feet and popping in a movie.

As soon as Jess turned on the light, she screamed. Sam pushed her out of the way, rougher than he intended to. There was a stranger sitting on their couch in the living room. A smirk was on his face as he looked at the couple.

"Hiya, Sammy," the stranger said as Sam placed himself in front of Jessica.

"What do you want?"

"Sam…" Jessica squeaked behind him.

The stranger stood up and took a few steps towards them. Sam inched back, making sure that Jess was behind him the whole time. He quickly looked around the room to see if there was a weapon he could use. The only thing he could think of was breaking a lamp across his head. Somehow, he thought that wouldn't work out the way he pictured it.

"I came here to make you a proposition."

"Do I know you?"

"No, I don't think you remember me. We met a long time again. At the time, your mommy was busy burning up in flames."

Sam didn't know a lot about demons. In fact, his mind was drawing a blank except for projectile pea soup. He didn't really get to listen to his dad and Dean talk about their plans. They got too pissed off at him before they even started the conversation.

"I want you to drop out of school and start hunting again. You need to hone your skills."

"Yeah, I'll get right on that," Sam bit back.

The demon smirked. With a wave of the hand, Jess screamed again as she flew across the room. Her back collided with the wall with a loud crack. The plaster split in half upon impact.

"Jess!" Sam screamed. "Leave her alone! She has nothing to do with this!"

Sam started to move towards Jess when he was flown into the opposite wall with another flick of the wrist. He struggled to break free, his gaze never leaving Jess' tear-stained face. She looked petrified as she feebly tried to move.

"You go back to hunting or I kill the blonde." The demon hissed. "When I say kill, I mean ripping out her insides and breaking all her bones."

"Okay. Okay! Just leave her be."

The demon stepped closer, his eyes slowly turning yellow. Reaching out a hand, he placed it gently on Sam's shoulder.

"Sammy, I think you're my favorite. The son of hunters, I've never had the pleasure. You are bound to be great." The demon squeezed Sam's shoulder tightly. "If it were up to me, the little blonde thing would be dead right now. But when life gives you lemons, you gotta make the lemonade sweeter than the first time around."

"You work for someone?"

"No, Sammy, come on! I'm merely listening to some persuasive advice."

"Advice from who?"

"It doesn't matter. All that matters is that you start hunting again. If you don't, well, sweet Jessica… she'll just have to die." The demon stepped back. "I'll be seeing ya, Sammy."

The demon strolled out of the apartment nonchalantly. As soon as the front door snapped shut behind him, Jess and Sam fell into heaps onto the floor. Sam sprung up and ran towards his girlfriend. He helped her up and pushed a blonde curl behind her ear.

"Sam…" she gasped out through tears. "What's going on?"

Opening his mouth to explain, no words escaped. He didn't know what to tell her, what to say. How could he tell her about his dad raising them to salt and burn corpses, kill werewolves with silver bullets, or wasting whatever supernatural monster they encountered? She'd run for the hills, never talk to him again. Maybe that was for the best. The demon could never use her as leverage if they split up right now in the nastiest way possible. Part of him, however, could not bear to lose her.

"I need to call my dad and brother," was all Sam managed to say.

"Sam, please, who- what was that?" She gripped his shirt. "How did he know your name?"

"Look, I need to call my dad right now. Then, I promise you, while we wait for him to get here, I'll tell you everything. Please, Jess, I need to call him right now."

Jessica nodded and covered her face with her hand. Sam led her to the nearest chair and helped her sit down before pulling out his cell phone. Taking a deep breath, he scrolled down his contacts until he saw the one marked "Dad." Hitting send, Sam nervously waited for his father to pick up.

Author's Notes – Hope you enjoyed the new installment. Merry Christmas! Please leave a review before you leave. :)


	6. Hobson's Choice

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Six: Hobson's Choice"**

The trip to Blue Earth, Minnesota was a ten hour-long drive. As soon as they dropped Sam and Jess off at the airport, they had immediately hit the road. If there was anyone who possessed a large knowledge of demons, it was Pastor Jim Murphy. It was rumored that he was the one who taught hunters who specialized in demon hunts all that they knew. In fact, years ago, Bobby Singer had told him that there was nobody better informed about demons than Jim.

They had just passed Cedar Rapids, Iowa when John's cell rang. He glanced behind him briefly to see if it was Dean calling, but his son was not on his cell. He was chatting animatedly with Ben who claimed shotgun. Dean must have been telling him a funny story or something, because Ben was smiling front ear-to-ear and bouncing in his seat. Flipping open the phone, John answered.

_"Dad… how long would it take you to get to Palo Alto?"_

"Sammy? Why? What's wrong?"

_"It was here. It threatened me."_

John's fist clenched around his phone. His heart sped up and he felt like he was kicked in the stomach. He _knew_ this would happen. He knew that Sam couldn't protect himself. He knew he never should have let the kid out of his sight for a minute.

"Are you okay?"

_"Yeah, Jess and I are fine."_

John nodded to himself, his gaze once again glancing back at the Impala driving behind him. Pushing his foot down farther on the gas, he formulated plans in his head. John thought it was his military training. Before he went on a hunt, he planned everything out. He thought about backup plans and what could go wrong. He always had a plan. When it came to this demon, plans were not easily formulated. They were spur of the moment, they were unpredicted, and they were rash. If the thing was definitely after Sammy, well, there was no time to plan. He had to act now.

"We're in Iowa. It's gonna take us over a day to get to you." John wrecked his brain at who would be closer to California. "Uh, Caleb. He's in Provo, Utah hunting a shifter I think. He can get there in half the time. He's good with demons too. His brother was killed by one, so he has a special interest in them."

_"Okay, yeah, give Caleb my address. What do you think? Ten hours?"_

"Nah, dude, it's gonna be longer than that. I'd say probably twelve and that's pushing it."

_"Okay, well, is there anything I can do until Caleb gets here?"_

"Salt every single door and window. They can't cross iron so if you have anything made of iron, I'd put it across the front door just for added protection. Holy water will make them steam like a bitch and slow 'em down. Call Pastor Jim, he might be able to describe some sigils or something you can draw to trap them in. Other than that, sit tight, Sammy, we're on our way."

John snapped his phone shut. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest. What if he was too late? What if they couldn't make it to California in time? What ifs plowed through his mind one after another. A worst scenario creeping up each time.

Meanwhile, in California, Sam rushed to the kitchen to grab all the salt that they had in the apartment. Opening the pantry, he took out four large canisters of salt. When Jess inquired about them when they moved in together, he said he was a sodium freak and loved the taste of it. She never questioned it again even though he never used the cans.

Sam started with the kitchen window, putting a thick line of salt from edge to edge. Turning to make his way into the living room, he saw Jessica standing in the doorway. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her cheeks were red from crying. Sam had never seen her look so scared before.

"Sam… I need you to tell me what's going on," she said in the most even voice she could muster.

Instead, he pushed pass her and salted the two windows in the living room and then the front door. He just barely had enough salt left to get the bedroom window. As Sam made his way through the apartment, Jess followed him like a lost puppy dog.

"This is wrought iron, right?" Sam asked as he inclined his head to the bed frame.

"Just stop! Sam, please, just stop! Explain to me what's going on!"

Sam sighed. He felt like there was a vice grip tightening in his chest. He couldn't avoid the conversation any longer. The truth needed to come, and he had to deal with the consequences.

"When I was six months old, my dad heard my mom scream in the middle of the night. He fell asleep downstairs watching TV, and he ran upstairs to see if my mom was all right. He walked right into my nursery and saw blood drip from the ceiling. When he looked up, he saw my mom pinned there… a gash across her stomach. Then the whole place just burst into flames. He grabbed me and gave me to Dean. He went back in to try to save my mom, but it was too late. She died."

"Sam, that doesn't make any sense. Why… how would she be pinned to the ceiling?"

"My dad found out that nightmare monsters existed. He started hunting ghosts, shifters, werewolves, everything and anything. There's this whole community of people who call themselves hunters. They hunt things that come straight from horror stories. Dean hunts with my dad now. I-I never wanted that life. I left hunting."

Jessica didn't say anything. She stood there silent, her head shaking in the negative. When she found her voice, she told Sam that none of that stuff was real. He closed the space between them, grabbing her wrist gently, and led her into the living room.

On the back of the couch, where the demon had been sitting waiting for them, was yellow dust. Sam ran his fingers through it and held them out to Jess to see. She looked from the dust to Sam, fresh tears prickling her eyes.

"It's sulfur," explain Sam. "Demons leave behind residue, signatures. It's common among most supernatural creatures."

"Sam…"

"You saw what that guy did. He shoved us against walls with a flick of a wrist. They have power, Jess, supernatural power. You witnessed it with your own eyes."

Jessica didn't say anything. Her mind was spinning with the possibility that all of that could be real. Wrapping her arms across her chest, she hugged herself and willed for all of this to be a nightmare.

"It might come back," Sam broke her out of her daydream. "My dad said that salt lines and iron will keep them from entering the apartment. I laid down the salt. The bed is made of wrought iron. I don't know how effective that will be. It's not pure iron, but I want to try it. Better safe than sorry, you know? Help me dismantle it?"

Jess helped him take apart the bed and place the wrought iron across the front doorway and windows. Then Sam rummaged through the closet until he found a duffle bag tucked away in the far corner. He pulled out a shotgun and filled it with rock salt rounds. Even though he knew it would be of little use if the demon got back into the apartment, he felt safer having the gun at his disposal.

Sam and Jessica settled into the living room. He took the chair while she took the couch. They stayed up that night, in uncomfortable silence. Every now and then, Jess would ask him a question about hunting and proceed to shake her head in disbelief. Nine hours into staying up, Jess could no longer keep her eyelids open.

Three more hours passed without a disturbance until someone knocked on the front door. Jessica bolted up on the couch, her eyes wildly searching for Sam. He stood up, shotgun in hand, and inched towards the front door.

"Hey, brat, open up the goddamn door so I know you're not dead!"

Sam relaxed a little bit and opened the front door. There stood a hunter who was nineteen years older than he was with a military-style buzz cut and a shit-eating grin. Caleb Lyons had been a hunter most of his life. When he was ten years old, he watched his possessed brother kill his big sister. When the demon turned to kill Caleb, Bobby Singer and some hunter named Bill had busted down the door and saved the kid. The brother didn't make it.

"I got pulled over twice on my way here. Tell Johnny he's paying my speeding tickets."

Nodding, Sam pulled the older hunter into a hug. Caleb hated demons. He was always itching to send a demon packing to hell. Besides his dad, Sam thought Caleb was the second best hunter to protect Jess and him. Pulling back, Caleb double-checked the salt line to ensure his entrance didn't disturb it.

"You sure do get in a lot of trouble," commented Caleb. "This isn't the first time I've bailed out you or your family."

"Thanks for coming. I don't know how to handle a demon. I didn't know if it'd be back."

"They always come back. Mostly when you least expect it."

Caleb looked beyond Sam. Turning around, he saw Jessica standing timidly in the doorway, eyes peering at the newcomer in distrust.

"Jess, this is Caleb. He's a friend of my dad's. Caleb, this is my girlfriend Jessica."

Caleb closed the space between them and extended a hand to Jessica. He smiled warmly at her to put her at ease. Slowly, she shook his hand.

"I wouldn't really say Johnny and I are friends. He usually treats me as a subordinate in his little hierarchy of hunters. Although, I am above Dean and Sammy which is nice. I'd be pissed if they were ranked higher. They're both just trouble." Jessica smiled politely and they dropped the handshake. "I could tell you some great stories about your boyfriend though. He was a little monster growing up. Even his jarhead dad couldn't calm him down."

Sam opened his mouth to tell Caleb to cool it but decided against it. Jess looked comfortable with the conversation. Maybe hearing stories would put her mind at ease for the next twenty hours until his dad got there and figured out what the next move was.

"Feel free to tell me stories," Jess said as she led him into the living room.

Sam leaned back in the chair, the gun long forgotten on the coffee table. Caleb told him don't bother with it. If the demon got in, they should run for the hills. Rock salt would only make the stumble for a few seconds and then it'd be pissed.

"Dean and Sammy were little terrors growing up," Caleb said as he walked around the living room ensuring that the salt lines were perfect. "Johnny taught the kids how to hustle. Dean was better at hustling poker than Sam was. Dean was just always naturally good at counting cards and winning. It got so bad that nobody wanted to play with Dean, so we started to buy candy and use that as our currency. Sam always went on Dean's team when he was younger and would have the worst sugar highs. Even when Sam got old enough to play on his own, he was always on Dean's team. The two were unstoppable. It was annoying to play with them. Johnny, Pastor Jim, and I got two different decks and started to cheat one night just to win a game. The two threw a holy fit. You would have thought we were torturing them or something."

"I remember that. Dean was so pissed he wouldn't play cards again for like six months."

"You two were brats and sore losers." Caleb turned his attention to Jessica. "He still a sore loser?"

"Um, not really. He gets that look on his face like he swallowed a lemon, but he doesn't say anything."

"Ahh, you mean Sammy's bitch face?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh. Anytime Sam got mad, he supposedly made a face. Dean and Caleb had teased him relentlessly about it. When Dean was fourteen, he called it his bitch face. The name had stuck ever since.

"Hey, how's Dean been? Johnny told me you had just parted ways when the demon attacked," asked Caleb. "I've been trying to call him the past few days, but he ain't pickin' up."

"Dean, uh, found out he has a son. That's why I saw them."

"Why doesn't that little shit ever use condoms?"

"Because when he was fifteen, you told him it was better without one?"

"Oh, yeah, your dad was pretty pissed about that. He always blamed me whenever it came to things dealing with sex, because he said I always talked about it in front of you two. He was such a prude."

"Caleb, I was seven when you gave me the birds and bees talk."

"Dean found my stash of skin magazines and was asking questions. What was I supposed to do?" Caleb took a seat across from Sam. "You two were always snooping through my shit whenever you stayed with me. You know what really pissed me off? You two never pulled that shit when you stayed with Pastor Jim or Bobby. Hell, you wouldn't dare pull that shit with your dad either. For some reason, though, you two brats thought you could do whatever the hell you wanted when it came to me."

Sam laughed at the memories. Caleb had been a mixture of an uncle and older brother to Sam and Dean when they were growing up. When their dad left them to go on hunts, they always loved when they were dropped off at Caleb's. When Dean got to be in his teenage years, him and Caleb had become good friends. When Dean turned 21, Caleb and Joshua were the ones who took him out to a bar and got him three sheets to the wind. They brought home a drunken Dean, laughing and carrying on about how they played pool and shot darts the entire night. Sam never got to develop a relationship like that with Caleb or any other hunter their family became close to. He was always seen as the runt, the baby who needed protecting.

"That's because you weren't a very parental figure in our lives," Sam explained with a smile. "The worst you did was yell at us and call us little shits."

"I would have beat your asses, but John would have beat mine. Being twenty-something at the time… well, it would have been a little embarrassing." Caleb ran a weary hand across his face. "Tell me about the little shit Dean fathered."

"His name's Ben. He's four years old. Quiet kid but real sweet."

"So, Dean was… nineteen when he got a girl knocked up?" He blew out a puff of air. "I'm sure Johnny was happy about this."

"Actually, he kind of was happy."

Sam had thought their father would have thrown a royal fit at learning the news of Dean's lack of condom use. He expected yelling and snide comments. He was surprised when he saw his father embracing the kid into their little family, surprised at how he doted on his grandson.

"Hmm… must have grown soft in his old age."

"Yeah, I was expecting him to be pissed for Dean being reckless, but he loves the kid. He's like that proud grandfather who's going to spoil the kid rotten."

"Funny, I remember John's mantra as a father was how you gotta earn what you get."

"All grandparents are like that though," Jessica spoke up. "They spoil the grandkids when they wouldn't be caught dead spoiling their children."

"My dad sure didn't spoil Dean and me."

"John may not have spoiled you with material goods, but he let you two get away with murder half the time," commented Caleb. "He'd always say he let the minor things slide, because he felt guilty for being away from home all the time."

"What are you talking about? Dad never let us get away with anything."

"Dude, need I remind you of Pastor Jim's church picnic fiasco of 2000?"

Sam narrowed his eyes. He vaguely recalled the picnic, but the details were a bit hazy. He just remembered that Joshua, Dean, and him had been bored out of their minds. Joshua and Dean had went to the liquor store and scored a few bottles of whiskey. It was the first time that Sam had ever been drunk.

"Vaguely."

"Your dad said to me that boys would be boys. Jim was the one who ripped you three a new one."

"I always just figured he let it slid because he was a bit of an alcoholic."

"Eh, maybe. I wouldn't say alcoholic per say. He did enjoy his rum though."

Sam nodded and he leaned back into the comfortable recliner. He noted Jessica slowly falling asleep on the couch once again. His own eyes drooped slightly. It had left like forever since he had welcomed sleep. With Caleb there, his body started to relax and he welcomed sleep.

He awake a few hours later to the low rumblings of Caleb and Jessica talking. They were discussing hunting, and Sam couldn't decide if that was a good thing or not. He let it slide and adjusted himself in the chair, his back cracking loudly. Once again, he welcomed sleep.

It seemed like an eternity until John, Dean, and Ben showed up in California. When they did, John pulled his youngest into a bear hug and murmured in his ear that he was glad that he was alive and well. Dean hung back with Ben leaning against his legs. As soon as John pulled away from his youngest, he crossed into the living room and extended a hand to Caleb.

Sam closed the space between him and his brother. Dean reached out and pulled his kid brother close to his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around Sam's neck.

Author's Notes – Hope you enjoyed the new chapter! Please leave a review, it motivates me to write quicker. :)


	7. 99 Problems

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Seven: 99 Problems"**

Dean held onto his little brother for what seemed like eternity. When his father had called him and told him there was a change in plans, Dean felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. The long drive to California was excruciating. He felt like they were never going to make it in time. Images of his brother's dead body flooded his vision and panic resided in the pit of his stomach. It had gotten so bad that Ben had intervened. He talked more in the past day and a half than he had ever since he met his father. Ben had kept him sane in a time when he felt as though he were going to lose it completely.

Pulling away, Dean cupped his kid brother's face into his hands. Dean nodded his head, a smile gracing his features. Sam was in one piece. He was alive. That was all that mattered. Ben leaned against his father's leg, his head resting on his thigh. Looking down, Dean reached down and hoisted his son up into his arms.

"I'm okay," Sam whispered.

"Sam, I'm begging you, come with us."

"Okay."

Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, his arms gripping Ben closer to his chest. His gaze fell behind his brother to see Caleb and his dad speaking to one another. Jessica stood back awkwardly, her arms wrapped around her torso. Motioning his head, they walked into the living room.

"Is this the squirt?" questioned Caleb as he closed the space between him and Dean.

"Caleb, this is my son Ben. Ben, this is my sorry ass friend Caleb."

"Are you kidding me? Your sorry ass friend? Remember that time when you were thirteen? Johnny and I were hunting a Leshy in the woods and you decided it would be a great thing to tag along. You bitched and moaned until John finally said you could come. Then the monster went and ripped your chest all up. I carried your fat ass for like nearly an hour!"

Dean chuckled at the memory. John and Caleb had no idea what they were hunting, so they decided just to go on some recon in the woods. Dean had been adamant that he wanted to join in to hone his skills. It was the first time he ever fought with his father, begged him to let him join in. John agreed and about an hour into recon, the beast had made its presence known and nearly ripped Dean inside out. He could vaguely remember Caleb cradling him in his arms and his father vigilant with his gun out as they moved out. After that day, Dean was only allowed to go on simple salt and burns for the next few years.

"Okay, Ben, I admit he's not half bad," Dean said with a shit-eating grin.

"Sammy and I were talking about how you don't know what a condom is."

"I learned about condom usage from you," replied Dean with a chuckle. "You always said it was better without. Man, you were right."

John cleared his throat and broke up the nostalgic reminiscing. As much as John enjoyed catching up with old friends and talking about past events, there were more problems that needed taking care of than they could count.

"Dad, I told Dean I'm coming with you guys," announced Sam as he refused to look at Jessica.

"We're going to go to Pastor Jim's. If anyone can help us, it's him," explained John.

"Listen, Johnny, I know you have your gripes about Bobby, but he's the best damn demon hunter there is."

"No."

"Dad, what is it with you and Bobby?" questioned Sam. "He used to be one of your closest allies."

"I killed his best friend," John said curtly. "End of discussion."

Dean glanced over at Caleb who just nodded in the positive. Bitterness worked its way into Dean. His father told Caleb things he wouldn't tell his own children. That was rich and laced with bullshit. Dean could remember the days when his father first started hunting. John would sit at a small rickety table in some shithole apartment, beaten and bruised with a bottle of alcohol, and would tell Dean what he had saw on his latest hunt. Over the years, John stopped talking about the hunts.

"Dad, the demon said if I didn't get back into hunting, he would kill Jessica. What are we going to do?"

John grew silent for a few seconds as he looked between Jessica and Sam.

"Jessica, I will do everything in my power to kill this sonofabitch. I think it's best if you stay in California though. Go to school, try to live a normal life. Caleb will put protection up around the apartment before he leaves. If anything happens, call me. I know how to find out where the nearest hunter is and I'll send them your way. Just stay smart. A demon can possess anyone. If you get scared and think your friend is possessed by a demon, pour some holy water in their drink or spill it on them. They'll steam and give you time to run like Hell is chasing you. I think you'll be fine. The demon had a chance to kill you, and it didn't. I think it wants Sam and our family."

Sam asked his family if he could have a few moments alone with Jess before they hit the road. Dean followed his father out of the apartment and down to the street. They leaned against the sleek, black Impala.

"What do you think this demon's end game is?" questioned Caleb.

John merely shrugged. Immediately, Dean knew his father knew more than he was letting on. Instead of questioning him, Dean leaned his forehead against Ben's. The boy smelled of shampoo and gummies. His sticky hands rested on his collarbone.

"What are you going to do, Caleb?" asked Dean.

"I gotta go finish up the hunt I left to check up on the runt. I'll meet you guys at Pastor Jim's afterward if you like."

"This isn't your fight, Caleb. You don't have to do that," commented John.

"We started hunting at the same time, Johnny. I remember being nineteen, a college drop out, standing in Pastor Jim's living room being scared out of my wits when I met your twenty-nine year old Jarhead ass and your two sticky-handed, bratty kids," explained Caleb with a fond smile. "Pastor Jim sent you to Daniel Elkins and sent me to Bobby Singer. Our first hunt without the training wheels was together. I've played godfather and uncle to Dean and Sammy more times than I can count. If I'm being completely honest, you made losing Dominic a little easier."

"Wow, hanging out with Sammy for the past day has sure turned you into a chick," commented Dean.

John laughed along with Dean. Ben even joined in, his cheek bumping up against his father's. Caleb could only help but smirk.

"Shut the fuck up," he replied sharply. "You've had your chick moments over the years. I seem to remember my niece conning you into playing Barbie with her."

Dean's smirk fell and he glanced sideways over at his father who was shaking his head with the biggest smile planted across his features. Heat flushed his cheeks.

"I was six, Dude. Plus, I was GI Joe. It doesn't even count."

"It totally counts," argued Caleb.

Dean opened his mouth to recall some embarrassing story about Caleb when Sammy came ambling towards the group of guys with his head hung and eyes watery. His cheeks and nose were flush, his eyes puffy. He stood next to Caleb and refused to look at anyone.

"Who am I riding with?" asked Sam in a soft tone.

"Here, ride with me," John said as he handed his youngest the keys to his truck.

Sam grabbed them quickly and made his way to the passenger's seat of the truck. He got in without another word and rested his forehead against the window.

Dean felt his heart ache for his kid brother. Whenever he was upset, it made his big brother twice as upset. All his life, him and his dad had tried to shield Sammy from the heartache and pain that the world presented. It seemed like it was an ongoing, losing battle.

Pastor Jim always said that Sam was an old soul with a soft heart. Dean had never agreed with the pastor more. Growing up, Sammy was a precocious child who could ask a hundred questions a minute. When something bad happened, Sammy was the first one to break down with red tear-tracks and fear griping his very soul. As Sam grew older, he built a tougher shell, but he always wore his heart on his sleeve.

"I'll expect to see you in a few days," John said as he extended a hand to Caleb.

"Yes, Sir," Caleb replied with a smile and they dropped their handshake.

"Dean, you follow me. Stay close. Call me if you need anything."

John hauled his frame into his truck. Dean looked to where his father disappeared. He could see his father's hand resting gently on Sammy's shoulder. Turning back to face Caleb, he extended his hand to the older man and said he'd see him soon.

They were on the road for nearly two hours, and Ben had been unusually quiet. Finally, he spoke in a scared voice that sounded fit for a child.

"Did the man with yellow eyes kill Jess'ca?"

Dean's grip tightened around the wheel, his eyes concentrating on his father's truck in front of him. It was no secret that Ben had taken a liking to the pretty blonde. Hell, anyone who took the time to draw and color with Ben was seen as a great person in his eyes. The fact that the kid asked a question about death unnerved Dean more than he was willing to admit. Where did he get that idea?

"No, Jessica's fine. Why would you think she was dead?"

"'Cause Uncle Sammy's cryin' und I cried when he killed Mommy."

A lump formed in Dean's throat. No matter how hard he tried, he could not swallow it down. Briefly, he looked over at his son who was staring at him with owlish eyes. For the first time since he met Ben, the kid reminded him of his kid brother.

"Jessica's fine, Ben. She's just staying in California."

"Why isn't Uncle Sammy with Jess'ca? Aren't they married?"

Dean let a smile creep its way onto his face. The kid definitely reminded him of Sammy now. When they were kids, Sam was around Ben's age when he just started asking questions. They would be everything from why is the sky blue to where do babies come from to why didn't they have a mom to what's it feel like to die. Some questions were easy to answer. He never tried to bullshit his little brother, because Sammy took everything he said as the God's honest truth. Then there were some questions that Dean couldn't answer or he didn't want to. He would avoid the questions like a plague and try to get Sam's mind onto something else entirely. It never worked very well.

"No, Ben, they weren't married. They were dating. It's what two people do before they get married to see if they love each other enough to get married."

Ben nodded, his gaze turning to look outside at the passing scenery. His bottom lip worked its way between his baby teeth.

"You and Mommy didn't love each other 'nuff to get married?"

Dean sucked in a long breath of air. He didn't exactly know how to answer that question to a four year old. There really was no way to tell any child that his mom had been a fun weekend filled with drunken nights and lots of sex – that he had never dated his mom, because he had no intention of ever loving her or seeing her again. Somehow, he felt that conversation would not end well.

"Your mom and I never dated, Ben. We were… friends," Dean lied.

Ben didn't say anything else, and Dean felt like he had successfully avoided the question for now. Hopefully, he would always just accept that answer and never ask again. Except, the kid had Sammy's blood pumping through his veins, so Dean doubted he would let it go so easily.

"Daddy, did the yellow eyed man go see Uncle Sammy and Jess'ca?"

Dean hesitated for a few seconds and then realized that honesty was probably the best policy. He could remember being four years old and scared out of his wits. He remembered just waiting for another fire to start and claim the life of Sammy and his dad. Anytime he asked his dad a question, his father always responded honestly. It gave him an odd sense of relief. He liked knowing what was out there, because that meant he knew how to protect his family.

"Yes, that's why Uncle Sammy is coming with us."

"Why?"

"Because some people are just bad people, Ben."

"Is he gonna come after you and me and Gran'pa and Uncle Sammy?" Ben's voice cracked.

Dean glanced over at his son to see tears pouring down his face and bottom lip quivering. Reaching out a hand, he motioned for Ben to unbuckle his seatbelt and move closer to him. Ben inched closer and snuggled up to his father. Dean eased off the gas pedal, because he was driving with one hand while the other one was wrapped around his son's shaking frame.

"Hey, Jude, don't make it bad," Dean sang in a low rumble. "Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better. Hey, Jude, don't be afraid…"

Meanwhile, in the car in front of Dean and Ben, John allowed Sam to have silence. He had stopped crying not long after they hit the road. Honestly, John didn't want to ask Sam what was wrong until he was ready to talk about it. Sooner or later, Sam would come around and want to talk about it. It was always sooner rather than later anyways. About four hours into the drive, Sam licked his lips and looked over at his father.

"The demon said he met me before… the night Mom died."

John didn't say anything. Images of Mary's pale face, mouth opened in a gauche O-shape filled his mind. He could remember the blood dripping from her abdomen into Sammy's crib. It had been the most terrifying thing he had ever saw in his life and would ever see.

"He said he wanted me hunting, honing my skills or else he would kill Jess. Why would a demon care if I was honing my skills?"

"I don't know, Sammy."

"Jess and I broke up. I called it off. I wanted to put as much distance between us in case the demon…"

"That's probably a good idea," commented John, his gaze resting on his youngest for a few seconds. "She's a civilian. She's not a hunter. You stay with her, it'll only be a matter of time before she gets killed."

Sam gazed into the rearview mirror where he watched his big brother talk to his son who was curled up in his side. Anytime Sam had been scared as a small child, their dad would have both Dean and him up in the front seat. Their dad would drive with one hand on the wheel, going really slow, with his free arm wrapped around Sam's shoulders and his hand resting on Dean's knee. Dean would lean into him, his chin resting comfortably on his messy brown curls. He always felt safe and warm, felt like nothing could ever touch him. He wanted nothing more than to feel that way again.

"Aren't you going to tell me _I told you so_?"

"Look, Sam, I'm trying really hard here," explained John as his grip tightened around the wheel. "I know I was tough on you and Dean growing up. I was tough, because I wanted you two to be safe. When you told me you were going to Stanford, I completely lost it. All I could think about was you being unprotected and dying. I've regretted that night ever since. I vowed to myself if I ever got a second chance with you, I'd try to keep my cool because I don't want to lose you again. Sometimes, you make that so goddamn hard."

"Dad… I'm sorry."

"You, Dean, and Ben… you three are my life. If one of you dies… I wouldn't make it, Sam. Losing your mother was the most painful experience of my life. If it wasn't for you and Dean, I would have killed myself. It was _that_ bad. If I lost you, your brother, or Ben, it would twice as painful."

The drive to Blue Earth, Minnesota was a day and six hours drive. After eight hours, the Winchesters stopped for a bite to eat at a shitty dinner. Then they hit the road for another four hours before stopping in Salt Lake City, Utah to catch a few hours of shuteye before hitting the road again.

When they hit the road again, Sam slid into the front seat of the Impala while Ben asked to ride with his grandfather. Dean and Sam talked about everything and anything except for the demon that had killed Lisa and paid a visit to Sam. They talked about baseball, reminisced about their childhood, and Dean even talked politics with his kid brother - anything to avoid the looming topic.

Two and a half hours later, they stopped in Green River, Wyoming to grab gas and snacks. Ben insisted on driving with his father and uncle. Dean held out his keys to his little brother with a warning not to crash the car. Ben slid into the middle of the bench seat and cuddled up next to his father as soon he took his spot in the passenger's side.

"What do you like to do, Ben?" asked Sam.

"I like T-Ball and music and cookies and drawing."

Sam chuckled softly at the answer. It all sounded so much like his big brother – except for the drawing part. Dean loved sports, music, and anything having to deal with food. Sam continued to ask his nephew questions about himself for hours until the small child grew tired and fell asleep with his head lying idly on his father's thigh.

The Winchesters continued to drive, only stopping for gas, bathroom breaks, and large quantities of caffeine. John wanted to drive the remaining part of the trip in one setting. He didn't want to stop moving. He wanted – _needed_ to get to Pastor Jim Murphy's.

After what seemed like a never-ending drive, the Impala and the Sierra turned into the brick driveway that lead to Pastor Jim's ranch house. Next door to the ranch house was a large, classic style church.

Dean held Ben's hand as he followed his father to the front door of the ranch. Ben suddenly grew quiet, the way he always did whenever he met someone knew for the first time. That didn't bother Dean in the least, because Ben had grown comfortable around his family. That was really all that mattered.

Pastor Jim opened his front door and immediately shook John's hand with a warm smile gracing his wrinkled features. After the handshake broke, the pastor pulled Sammy into an embrace and told him he was glad to see how well he was doing. Finally, Dean stepped through the doorway with Ben glued to his side. The pastor pulled Dean into a hug, who in return wrapped his free arm around the man who had been like an uncle to him growing up.

"Pastor Jim, this is my son Ben. Ben, this is a good friend of ours. His name is Pastor Jim. He owns the church next door."

Ben said nothing but offered a half-hearted smile and squeezed Dean's hand harder. Instead of looking at the pastor, Ben's gaze washed over the quaint home.

"You four look absolutely beat. John, why don't you lie down in my room? Dean and Sammy, you two can take your old guest room. I'm assuming Ben will stay with you?"

"Uh, yeah, thanks, Pastor Jim," commented Dean.

"Thank you, Jim," John spoke quietly as he clapped a hand on the pastor's shoulder. "Just give me a few hours and then I'd like to talk. Caleb is going to get here in a few days after he finished up the job he was on. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all. Caleb is always welcome in this house as long as he keeps his language in check. There _is_ a church next door that we all need to be mindful of," the pastor jested.

"Dean's mouth is just as bad," commented Sam. "You might want to dig out some old sleeping bags for Dean and Caleb, because I'm sure you'll kick them out within a few days."

"Oh, I have no doubt that I will."

Dean shook his head and led Ben to the back of the ranch house. Upon entering the guest bedroom, Dean was flooded with good memories of sharing the room with Sammy when they were growing up. There were two full beds in the room separated by a common nightstand. Dean collapsed on the one closest to the door, Ben struggling slightly to clamor on next to his father.

Exhaustion had set in hours previous. Driving for three days straight was a wearing task. The affects were taking its toll onto Dean's body. Ben snuggled up next to his father, using his chest as a pillow. Wrapping an arm around Ben's waist, Dean closed his eyes and willed sleep to overtake him.

Author's Notes – Here is the newest chapter! I hope you all enjoyed. Don't forget to leave a review! They are essential in writer's world. :)


	8. Close Quarters

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Eight: ****Close Quarters****"**

In the basement of Pastor Jim's church were two rooms. One was an arsenal filled with every weapon imaginable. The other was a library filled with ancient tomes about everything supernatural under the given sun. That's where Dean, Sam, and Ben found themselves. Situated around a table with books of various sizes opened before them, the two eldest Winchesters searched for information on demons. Meanwhile, Ben sat in-between them with a coloring book open in front of him.

Dean leaned back in his chair, a book about biblical demonology laid out in front of him. With his fingers, he pinched the bridge of his nose and willed away the headache that had slowly been encroaching on him. They had been sitting in that damn library for the past five hours. All they had to show for their hard work was a page of handwritten information in a notebook.

Their father had left to do research on his own. He said he had been through Jim's books more times than he cared to count and wanted to see if he could find some new material to read. Sam had insisted that they sift through the old tomes again, just in case their father had missed something important. Dean doubted it, however, but kept his mouth shut and went along with it.

Ben glanced up at his father, his eyes pleading for them to leave the stuffy old room. The kid got antsy after two hours in the basement. Dean told him to go upstairs and find something to do. He refused to leave his father and had halfheartedly colored for the remaining of the time.

"Wanna grab some lunch?" asked Dean.

"Yeah!"

Ben was out of his seat in two seconds flat. Grabbing the coloring book and crayons, he shoved them into a small backpack that John had bought him at the Salvation Army while they were still in Cicero. It was a black bag with an ACDC logo embossed on one of the smaller, front compartments. It had been the first time Ben had smiled since he was in the Winchester's company. He claimed ACDC was his favorite band. Dean didn't question why Lisa would let him listen to the band at only four years old, but he was oddly glad she did. The chick had good taste.

"What do you want?"

"I dunno," Ben replied as he shoved his arms through the straps of the backpack.

"Let's go upstairs and ask Pastor Jim if he wants to come with us," Dean suggested before turning his attention to his kid brother. "You comin'?"

"Yeah, gimme like five minutes. I wanna finish this chapter."

Dean nodded and stood up. Motioning for Ben to follow him upstairs, they noticed Pastor Jim at the front of the church. He was standing at the podium with a large book opened in front of him.

"Hey, Pastor Jim, wanna go get some lunch with us?"

The older man looked up from his book, a warm smile crossing his features. When Dean and Sam were growing up, the pastor had been a surrogate uncle to the two boys. They stayed with the pastor numerous times when their father went out on a hunt. He was an unofficial member of their tiny family.

"Yes, I was just trying to do some research for you boys. Did you find anything useful?"

"Uh, not really. Maybe if we knew the demon's name we could figure it out… but we got crap."

"That would be too easy, I'm afraid," the pastor replied with a frown. "All of my books are void of demon eye colors as well. I've never heard of a demon with yellow eyes. Any hunter who has ever come across them as always said they were either black or red."

"There a difference between eye color or something?"

"Well, from what I understand, red eyes usually denote a deal making demon."

Dean let out a small snort as he felt Ben's weight rest on his leg. The kid was growing bored of all the hunting and demon conversations.

"What's the cost of a deal?"

"One's soul. You make a deal and you can get anything you ever wished for in life - money, fame, love, anything. Then, in ten years, your payment comes do. You are doomed to damnation."

"What kind of desperate bastard would actually agree to something like that?"

"You'd be surprised how many good men have fallen prey to a deal in desperate times."

"Desperate times calls for desperate measures, huh?"

Dean felt Ben's fingers grasp his wrist tightly. Looking down at this son, he noticed he was looking behind the group. Following his son's gaze, he spotted a man at the back of the church watching them. The man looked familiar with a long, trench coat and dark hair. Dean narrowed his eyes and placed him as the man he saw watching them at the courthouse in Cicero.

"Ben, stay with Pastor Jim."

"_Daddy_," the boy pleaded as his father gently pried the fingers from his wrist.

Dean marched down the aisle, his eyes never leaving the strange man for a second. The last time he had, it was almost as though the guy had disappeared into thin air. When Dean was halfway to him, the man turned and walked down a hallway. Bursting into a run, he quickly reeled around the corner and saw nothing. The man was gone. He forcefully hit the nearest wall with his palm, his head shaking in disappointment.

Walking back to the pastor and his son, Dean saw his Ben peering at him with owlish eyes. He took comfort in the pastor and was standing close to him. When he saw his father ambling back, Ben broke out into a run down the aisle. Dean reached down and swung the kid into his arms.

"I lost him," commented Dean. "You think he's a demon?"

"Dean, this is hallowed ground. No demon can step foot here."

A frown worked its way onto his face as Ben's arms tightened around his neck. He wished his father were there to have witnessed the strange man. He would have known if the man was a demon or not. Just because it was hallowed ground didn't mean that all demons would be deterred from the church. There were probably some badass sonofabitches who could enter.

"What else could it have been? This is the second time I've seen the guy. The first time was in the courthouse and now today? That's not a coincidence. He wouldn't have been in Cicero and now Blue Earth if he were just a guy."

"Have you ever considered that perhaps it's not a demon but maybe an angel? You could have someone watching out for your family, Dean."

A smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. An angel – that was rich. He could remember being a kid and having his mom tell him never to worry about anything because angels were watching over them. Angels sure weren't watching over them the night his mom died, the night Lisa died, the night Sammy and Jess were attacked. So much for angels, right?

_Windom, Minnesota_

John parked his truck outside of the Milligan household. Kate's jeep was in the driveway. That made the trip worth it at least. With everything going on lately, he didn't want to miss out on being Adam's father as well. Part of him wondered if he should tell Dean and Sam about their little brother. With the demon attacking at full force, perhaps it would be a good idea. They would know to watch out for the kid if anything ever happened to him.

Exiting the truck, he slammed the door shut and walked up the stairs to the front porch. Rapping his knuckles on the wooden door, John waited patiently for someone to answer. There was rustling and then the door flew open to reveal Kate.

She was clad in jeans and a tight t-shirt. Her golden hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail. Crossing her arms over her chest, a frown set into her brow.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, closing the door slightly to block him from view.

"I came here to see Adam and apologize." John licked his lips as his hands worked their way into his jacket pocket. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Kate stepped out of the house and closed the door behind her. Leaning her back against the frame, she sighed.

"Okay, tell me everything."

"I have a twenty-three son and nineteen year old son. Their mother died when they were just kids. I've raised them alone for years, relying on buddies to watch them while I work. Dean, my oldest, has a son. He's four years old, and he watched his mom die in a house fire. It's been a tough time. I never meant to forget about Adam. He's my son… I want to know him."

Kate ran a hand through her blonde hair. A lump formed in John's throat. He thought part of the reason he slept with Kate was because of her damn hair. He had a weakness for blondes ever since Mary. He missed running his fingers through her long, curly locks. Her laugh oddly reminded him of Mary as well.

"I'm sorry," Kate spoke softly. "I lost my cool with you on the phone the other day. I just… Adam was so upset. I went into mama bear mode I guess."

"It's okay, I understand. Kate, can I see him?"

Stepping aside, she allowed him entrance into her home. Upon entering, John walked into the living room to see his twelve-year-old son sitting on the couch. A smile crept onto his features as he rushed towards his father. John wrapped his arms around the boy.

He looked a lot like Sammy did at that age - from the hair coloring to the smile to the eyes. Adam was a Winchester through and through. Seeing Adam was like a breath of fresh air. It brought back all the great memories he had of when Dean and Sammy were kids – when things seemed less complicated. There was hunting and caring for his children – no demon crap or being the ones hunted.

"Wanna go get some lunch?"

Adam pulled away from his father, a smirk still gracing his features. He nodded enthusiastically and followed his father out to his truck. They drove a to a small diner just off the highway. It had the best burgers in all of Minnesota. In fact, years ago, after his ghoul hunt in Windom, he brought Dean and Sammy to the diner. Dean had loved the place because the food was extra greasy and the fries as crispy as they came.

John sat across from Adam, newspaper laid out in front of him. Reaching for his coffee, he took a sip and looked up at his son. The kid was glancing around at the diner patrons, his big chocolate eyes wide and curious.

"How's school?" asked John.

"I'm trying out for the baseball team next year," he commented as his gaze fell back onto his father. "Mike and Tony are on already on the team, so they're helping me train."

"You'll have to tell me when you get on the team. I'd love to come to a few of your games."

"Really?"

The kid shoved a fry into his grinning mouth. John couldn't help but laugh. Maybe, if things calmed down a little bit, he could tell Dean and Sammy about Adam. They could come to the games as well. Dean would love to have another kid brother.

"Of course, dude. You're my son."

John's phone vibrated in his jacket pocket. Ruffling through his pocket, he produced his cell phone to see Caleb's familiar number shining on the screen. He apologized to Adam before answering his phone.

"What's up?"

_"Bobby called me and asked if I was able to go to Iowa for a possible demonic possession."_

"A possible one?"

_"There's a warehouse in Des Moines. Apparently, some chick woke up there and claimed that she had been possessed by a demon. She's in a psych ward in the big hospital down there."_

Des Moines wouldn't be too bad of a drive to make, especially for a demon possession. Except, it could just be a crazy chick spinning tales. The possibility was enough to make John want to make the drive down there.

"Why isn't Bobby taking it? That's his favorite kind."

_"He's already on a gig. I thought you might want it considering it's a demon and all."_

"Thanks, Caleb. I'll get right on it."

John snapped his phone shut and glanced up at his youngest son. Adam was staring up at him with owlish eyes, a fry squished between his fingertips. He'd finish lunch with the kid, take him home, and head back to Blue Earth to pick up his boys. They could go to Iowa together and check out the possible possession.

_Des Moines, Iowa_

Dean made sure Ben was beside him when they stepped into the warehouse. John took the front of the pack and Sam brought up the rear. There had been very clear instructions that Ben was to run as fast as he could out of the warehouse if anything happened. The kid nodded his head, fear clouding his eyes.

John stopped short of the windowsill, his finger running along the wood. Yellow powder covered his skin and a small chuckle escaped his lips.

"I don't know whether I should be happy that it's actually demons," commented John.

"How many you think?" inquired Dean.

"I don't know. There's a lot of sulfur. I'd say either a lot of demons or a couple really powerful ones."

"Why possess a chick and then just drop her off in some dusty, old warehouse?"

"Why do demons ever do what they do?" replied Sam.

There was a creak in the floorboards. The Winchesters stopped in their tracks, their eyes searching for the source of the noise. Dean saw him first, standing in shadows with only pale, yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness. His whole body stiffened, his hand reaching down and gripping Ben tightly on the shoulder. Pushing the kid back, Dean reached behind him with his free hand to grip his pistol that was tucked away snug between the small of his back and the waistband of his jeans.

Logic said that bullets were useless, but he had to have some sort of weapon. Perhaps, he could shoot the rounds in succession and slow the sonofabitch down and give Ben time to run out of the warehouse to safety. The only thing that really mattered was Ben's safety. He knew that his dad would take care of Sammy.

"Sammy… John… Dean… and Ben," the demon nodded to each of them with a smirk gracing his features as he stepped into the light. "I'm so glad you could make it."

"Whatever you want, you sonofabitch, you ain't gettin' it," Dean hissed and raised his gun.

"Oh, Dean, I _always_ get what I want. John, you know what I want. You've been digging around a lot lately." The demon took a step forward, his gaze focused on John. "Back off, John, or else I will bring people into this fight that you want to keep nice and clueless. Capiche?"

Dean glanced over at his father in confusion. His father refused to look his way. Instead, he cocked his shotgun filled with rock salt and pointed it at the demon. Somewhere behind Dean, he could hear his son whimpering. He tried to block that out of his mind. He had to keep his head in the game. Plus, he knew Sam was lingering behind him, probably had his hand on his nephew's shoulder. Sammy would take care of Ben for him.

"What do you want from us?" snapped Sam.

"Oh, I want a lot from you, Sammy. You're my favorite. Ben… he's probably my second favorite. Your brother and daddy though? Just nuisances."

With a smirk, Dean was flung across the room. A sharp piece of metal rammed through his chest. An awful cracking of bones filled the eerily quiet warehouse. Nobody moved, nobody even dared to breathe. Dean's body was limp, his face ghostly pale. Blood saturated his clothes and dripped onto the musty cement floor.

"DADDY!"

Ben's cry jolted everyone into movement. Sam ran after the kid, wrapping his arms around his chest and lifted him off the ground. He thrashed and cried as he stared at the dead body of his father. John rushed towards his oldest son, tears clouding his vision. His hands cupped Dean's face, smearing blood on his porcelain face.

"Dean. Dean. Come on, Dean. No. No. No," John said to nobody in particular.

There was so much blood. John fumbled around for a pulse but could not find one. Through his tears, John could barely see his son's face. It was a blur of white, black, and red. John's legs shook beneath him. He gripped his son's leather jacket to keep him up right. The sonofabitch killed his wife and now killed his son. He'd murder the demon with his bare hands if he had to.

"Dean…" John gasped out.

Through the sobs of the Winchesters and Ben's cries for his father, there was a flapping noise. As though a giant bird had landed within the abandoned warehouse. The clicking of heels sounded next. John tore his gaze away from his son's cold body to see a blurry outline of a man standing in the shadows.

"Azazel," a monotone, male voice vibrated.

The figure stepped into the light. John wiped the back of his hand against his eyes to clear the tears away. The man who stood there had dark hair and a few days shadow on his cheeks. He was dressed in a suit, his tie loosened around his neck. He had on a long, beige trench coat.

The demon laughed, clearly amused at the presence of the new man. He stepped closer to the newcomer, not intimidated in the least.

"Are you seriously here right now?" the demon questioned.

"This wasn't supposed to happen like this. Dean was not supposed to die today."

"Oh yeah? Says who?"

"God."

The man reached out a hand. Before any further moves could be made, the vessel of the demon threw back his head and black smoke came pouring out of his mouth. It was floating towards the ceiling, hovering, until it was completely out. Then, it darted towards the floor and vanished. The man the demon had been possessing collapsed to the ground with a loud thump.

The newcomer stepped towards Dean and John. Gently, he placed a hand on John's shoulder.

"We need to move him. Help me lie him on the ground."

"Why?" questioned John, his voice breaking.

The man ignored his question. Instead, he placed his hands around Dean's chest and started to pull him off the rod. Quickly, John helped him. They laid Dean gently onto the cold ground. John kneeled next to his son, his hand running through his spiky hair. The newcomer placed two fingers onto Dean's head.

Suddenly, Dean gasped, bolting up into a seated position. He scanned the room, looking at his crying father over to the vaguely familiar stranger who was staring at him. Ben yelled again, and Sam let the child slip from his grasp. Ben ran as fast as he could to his father, wrapping his tiny arms around Dean's neck and nearly knocking him backwards onto the ground again. Sam carefully walked towards his brother, his face red from tears.

"What happened?" asked Dean, his eyes locking with his father's.

"I saved you," the newcomer stated.

Dean allowed his gaze to return to the stranger. He looked slightly familiar, but Dean could not place him for the life of him. Then suddenly, images of the man washed over him. He had been at the courthouse and again in Pastor Jim's church. He had been following the Winchesters for who knew how long.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Author's Notes – I hope you enjoyed the new chapter. This story takes weeks upon weeks of planning and days upon days to write. So, please, take a minute and write a review. I could use the motivation. These next few chapters are going to be a beast to write! Thank you. :)


	9. Another Life

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Nine:**** Another Life"**

There was a long road that was illuminated by streetlamps. Dean glanced down the dirt road. There was nothing except tiny rows of lights that seemed to drag on forever. Deciding to just pick a way and walk, he followed the path. There was really nothing else he could do.

It felt like forever of just walking. The only things to look at were the looming, dark trees above and the tiny orbs of light in the distance. The lights grew brighter as he made his way along. Under one lamp, a ways down, was a silhouette of a person. Picking up his pace, he ran towards the person.

As the figure came into view, he faltered in his steps. She was beautiful, just how he remembered her. She was wearing a long, white dress and her chestnut hair was cascading down her shoulders. A soft smile graced her lips as she made her way towards him.

"Dean," she said in a voice as smooth as molasses.

"Lisa?" he questioned as his mind reeled.

Glancing down, he noted the sticky blood clinging his t-shirt to his chest. He remembered the pain, the darkness that succumbed. He vaguely remembered hearing Ben screaming for him. What had happened?"

"Am I dead?"

"No," she replied as a pale hand reached out and touched his shoulder gently, "not yet."

"I'm sorry…" he choked out as his hands ran over the wound, coating his fingers with crimson.

"It wasn't your fault. I should have called you and told you about Ben. I would have known then."

A warmness filled his inside as the dark sky seemed to brighten. Dean glanced up, shielding his eyes from the blinding light. Lisa seemed unmoved by the sudden change.

"Is this the time when I'm supposed to walk into the white light?" he questioned as he squinted at her.

"No, this is the time that you wake up. You're not supposed to die today."

Suddenly, the road and lights were gone. Lisa was gone. He was on the cold, hard floor of the warehouse. He jerked up, gasping for breath. Glancing around the room, he noticed his family with tear-stained faces and a familiar stranger. Suddenly, tiny hands flung themselves around his neck and nearly knocked him over.

"What happened?" asked Dean, his eyes locking with his father's.

"I saved you," the newcomer stated as Dean allowed his gaze to fall upon the stranger.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord."

Dean's head spun as he stared at the so-called angel crouched beside him. His father's hand found it's way to his shoulder and Sam was suddenly by his father's side. Nothing made sense. He couldn't understand why everyone was crying, where the demon went, where this new guy came from.

He remembered flying through the air, an immense pain filling his insides as something pierced his back. Looking down, Dean saw that there was blood everywhere. It drenched his clothes and covered his hands. Lisa and the road… it wasn't just a dream, was it? What the hell had happened? Dean's grip tightened around his son whose tears soaked through his shirt.

"I would like to talk to Dean alone," the man named Castiel announced.

"Whatever you gotta say, you can say it in front of them," challenged Dean as he struggled to stand up while keeping Ben in his arms. The kid was still shaking and sobbing.

John and Sam stood up also. The Winchesters faced the so-called angel. Although Dean may not have believed he was who he said he was, John and Sam could not come up with another explanation. They saw the man heal Dean with a feather light touch.

"Ben can stay, but your father and brother need to leave so we can talk."

"You know whatever you tell me, I'll just tell them as soon as you leave?"

"I know, but I still want to talk to you in private."

"We'll be right outside," John whispered. "Thank you."

He stared at his son, tears still burning his eyes. It was a miracle to see Dean breathing let alone standing up and holding Ben. John wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders and steered him out of the warehouse. Once the door was closed, Castiel turned towards Dean.

"I am sorry, Dean."

"Here I was going to say thank you," he said dryly.

"No, I'm sorry that in another life, I failed you."

"In another life? I have no idea what that means."

Dean let out a forced chuckle as Ben's breath tickled his neck. He rubbed his hand on the kid's back to try to get him to loosen his death grip, but it was a feeble attempt.

"This wasn't how your life was supposed to be, Dean. Lisa was never supposed to die. You were never to know that Ben was your son. Your father was supposed to die as well as Jessica Moore. You and Sam were supposed to be hunting partners. You never were supposed to die here tonight."

Dean's grip instinctively tightened around Ben. The very thought that he wasn't supposed to have Ben in his custody made his heart ache. He had grown very fond of the little boy in a short amount of time. Honestly, Dean didn't want to lose the kid. He had become a lifeline of sorts, had brought the Winchester family closer together – more so than they had been for years.

"That sounds like a pretty crappy life. Glad I didn't live in that life."

"We were friends, Dean. In fact, you once told me once I was like a brother to you."

"You look like a tax accountant. I don't befriend tax accountants."

"Dean, we need to be serious for a few minutes. I have many things to tell you."

"Listen, if you're going to tell me all about my once upon a life that was all doom and gloom where we were friends, save it. I don't want to hear about it."

"An archangel changed your life."

"Dude! What part of save it don't you understand?"

"The angel's name is Ariel."

Dean sighed heavily. He glanced towards the door of the warehouse, longing for John and Sam to come back in. He didn't really want to have a conversation with this so-called angel. He had more important questions that needed answered – specifically about the demon that killed his mom. What had happened when the pain stopped and everything went black? What happened to bring him back from the road?

"I don't believe in angels."

The lights of the warehouse flickered above. Ben let out a few sobs of fright as he gripped Dean tighter. Glancing over at Castiel, Dean saw a flash of light. Behind him, monolithic black wings danced behind him. They were gone just as quickly as they had come. Everything went back to normal.

"Nice wings. Very girly," Dean managed to get out. "What happened to the demon?"

"I let him go."

"You let him go? Aren't angels supposed to kill demons?"

"Normally I would have killed him, but I know how much retribution means to you. I let him go so you could enact the revenge you so desperately want. In another life, you shot him with a mystical gun crafted by Samuel Colt."

"Listen, I'm getting really tired of this 'another life' crap."

"I believe the point of change was the day Lisa died, and her death saved many lives. Although, I fear that Fate might not allow those saved lives to live unless God commands her differently."

"Why would Ariel the Little Mermaid kill Lisa and change my life?"

"You were losing the battle. The world was going to be destroyed because of a vain mistake I made. The world was a barren land with a mere thousand lives still left breathing. Heaven was in complete shambles. Angels did not trust one another anymore. The human race was decimated. Purgatory walked on earth's soil. Ariel brought us all back, turned back the hands of time to stop what had happened. She lined up all the angels and took our weapons. She made us swear obedience with the threat of smiting looming over our heads. Then, she gave everyone their memories back to avoid the mistakes we made last time." Castiel paused and looked down at Ben. "I feel like I should apologize to you again for that mistake, but the drastic measures that Ariel took to save humanity seemed to have given you a better life."

Dean licked his lips, and the irony taste of blood filled his mouth. Running a hand across his mouth, smeared blood appeared on his hand. The amount of blood he was covered in, he was sure he had died. If this Castiel brought him back to life and was telling him this crackpot story… maybe it was true.

"Will it ever go back?"

The thought of losing Ben to go back to this hellish life Castiel was describing was not an option in his mind. He couldn't lose his dad and his son. Although, it would give Ben his mom and normal life back, Dean selfishly wanted Ben to be apart of his life… apart of his family. If he lost the kid, he'd be devastated.

"No, Ariel will not allow that to happen. If it goes back, everyone dies. The planet would be demolished. She would lose her position of God."

"Why me? Why change my life? Why not some other hunter's life who could save the planet?"

"The reasons behind why you were chosen are reasons I wish not to tell you, Dean."

"You told me everything else, why not this?"

Castiel sighed. His gaze landed on Ben before looking back at Dean.

"Perhaps another time we can discuss why your life was so important to change. I will tell you that you and Sam were directly involved in everything that unraveled because certain angels believed that destiny was more important than saving lives."

Dean glanced down at his son's tear-stained face for a few moments before looking back at the angel in front of him. There were so many questions running through his mind that he didn't know what to ask first.

"Why should I believe you when you're telling me that there are rogue, evil angels?"

"I am asking you to trust me, Dean. I know your trust is hard to come by; but once it is given, you trust completely and unequivocally. I only hope that you can trust me like you once did."

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't want anything. I wanted to save your life and apologize for being overcome with power."

"Well, if you're the reason the mermaid changed my life, I guess I should be grateful."

"Ariel will come for you. It is only a matter of time before she seeks you out and demands your compliance in her plans. She is arrogant and resourceful. The angels fear her – fear that she will fall from grace and seek retribution on the human race if her plans do not go as follows. She has watched her four brothers all fall to either death by angel or trapped in the cage. She stayed out of the fighting for centuries until now, watched as they destroyed our father's pride and joy. Now, she seeks power and worship. I would be lying if I did not agree with the sentiment that she could become the next Lucifer – a petulant child who causes destruction when they don't get their way. Be careful, Dean. If you ever need me, just pray to me."

With a swoosh, Castiel was gone. Dean stood in the abandoned warehouse with his mind swimming. The death grip around his neck eased as Ben looked around the room with wide eyes.

"What a dick, huh, Ben?"

"Yeah," he replied, his face burying into the crook of his father's neck.

Back at the motel, Dean just wanted to get out of his bloody clothes and take a shower. Blood was caked everywhere. Although he couldn't remember exactly what had happened, he knew it was bad because of the way his family seemed to walk on eggshells around him.

Settling his son on his bed, Dean kneeled down to his eye level. The kid's face was red from crying. His eyes were puffy and his fingers gripped the collar of his father's beloved leather jacket.

"Hey, I'm gonna go hop in the shower. Why don't you color with Uncle Sammy?"

"No!" Ben gasped out in a panic. "Daddy, no!"

The kid jumped at him, tangling his arms around his father's neck and tried to bury himself. Dean held him tight, his eyes closing. All of the progress that had been made with Ben had been washed away in a matter of minutes. He was the clingy four-year-old again who only saw death and destruction around him.

"Okay, how about you color in the bathroom while I shower. Sound good?"

Ben nodded his head against his father's chest. Dean stood up, his arm working its way around the kid's shoulder. He grabbed his backpack and made his way into the bathroom. He settled down by the sink and began to draw.

Dean peeled off the soaked t-shirt. Looking down at his stomach, he saw a faint, discolored ring against his skin. Kicking off his boots, he noticed Ben was watching him with interest. He gave his son a small, reassuring smile before stepping into the shower to finish getting undressed.

The hot water cascaded down his sore muscles. Bracing his hands against the tile, he hung his head and allowed the water to hit the nape of his neck and run down his back. Castiel's words rang in his head. This wasn't supposed to be their life… it seemed like too hard of a concept to even comprehend.

"Dad?" Ben's voice cried.

"I'll be out in a second!" Dean yelled.

He glanced down at the bottom on the shower to see a sea of red blood. Standing up straight, he washed off the rest of caked blood and flicked off the shower. Reaching out a hand, he grabbed a towel off the rack and tied it neatly around his waist. Stepping out of the shower, he noticed Ben sitting on the floor with his bottom lip tucked tightly between his baby teeth.

Closing the space between them, Dean hoisted Ben up into his arms and plopped him down onto the edge of the sink. Dean grabbed his electric razor and plugged it in.

"I'm fine, Ben," he commented as he glanced over at the tiny boy. "I never told you what my job was, did I?"

"No," he responded in a small voice.

"I'm sort of like a special police officer," he started as he thought of the best way to tell him about hunting and concluded his father's explanation was the route to go. "Instead of finding bad people who rob banks and steal things, I find monsters that hurt people. It's my job to make sure they don't hurt anyone. You understand that?"

"What kind of mons'ers?"

Dean licked his lips and wished he had asked his father the same question when he was a kid. Instead, he was too traumatized by his mother's death and sort of just nodded when his father told him about his new job.

"Do you know who Count Dracula is?"

Ben tilted his head and narrowed his eyes to clearly tell his father he wasn't stupid. Dean let out a chuckle.

"Daddy, he's _famous_. He's on my fav'rite cereal."

Dean smiled. The kid loved cereal just as much as Sammy did as a kid.

"Ben, that's Count Chocula."

"Oh, but I like Count Chocula," he replied with a furrowed brow

"Well, did you know Count Chocula was a vampire?"

"Yeah."

"Do you know what a vampire is?"

"No."

"Well, a vampire is a monster. A monster isn't human. A vampire will kill you. The thing is… most people don't know that vampires are real. Only a select few people know about vampires and other monsters. Grandpa and Uncle Sammy and I all hunt these monsters and protect people. Sometimes, we get hurt just like police officers get hurt. I got hurt today, but I'm okay. I'll always be okay."

Ben nodded slowly, tears prickling his green eyes. There was a knock on the bathroom door, and Dean sighed before calling out. John and Sammy were immediately in the already cramped bathroom.

"Dean, we need to talk," commented John. "What did that angel tell you?"

Dean turned on his razor and started to shave his cheeks. That last thing he wanted to do was to talk about this supposed other life. He couldn't tell his father that he was supposed to be dead.

"Not much," he replied.

"You were… D-E-A-D," Sam added as he glanced over at his nephew.

"I'm very well aware that I was D-A… D-E-A-D, okay?"

"Dude, seriously?"

"Shut up, Sam!"

"Enough," barked John. "We need to talk about this."

"Can we talk about this later?" pushed Dean. "I'm A-L-I-V-E, so it's all good."

He looked down at his son, hoping to get his point across that he wished not to talk about the angel stuff in front of Ben. John must have gotten the hint, because he dropped the conversation.

That night, while Ben was fast asleep in bed, Dean slipped out of the motel room. He leaned over the railing and glanced up at the twinkling stars. Not a minute later, John appeared outside of the motel room with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"Did I really die?" questioned Dean, a lump forming in his throat.

"You were… so pale and there was blood everywhere. Ben was inconsolable. Sam held him back as I tried to… you were gone, Dean."

"He said that everyone died, that the whole freakin' world practically ended. Some archangel turned back the hands of time to give us a second chance from stopping that from happening."

Dean couldn't look at his father. Instead, he watched the stars shine in the dark night. When him and Sam were kids, they must have been ten or six respectively, they would lie outside late at night and just stare at the stars. Sam usually came up with stories for the constellations.

"He said you died, Dad," Dean said as his voice cracked. "He said that Jessica was dead. He said that Ben and I never knew I was his father… because Lisa lived and raised him."

"You can't just magically change the past," commented John. "There's no freakin' way. I've never heard of anything like that before."

"Yeah, well, we never believed angels actually existed either."

Dean closed his eyes as he sighed. Everything that he had ever known seemed to be crumbling beneath him. More than anything, he wanted the warehouse debacle to have just been a dream. He was just waiting to wake up.

"You believe him?" questioned John.

"That we're from some wacky alternate reality where everyone dies but nobody seems to remember but angels?" Dean let out a chuckle. "I don't freakin' know. It's ridiculous."

"It doesn't matter. This is our life now. Nobody is going to change that."

Nodding, Dean glanced over at his father. This was their life now. Nobody was going to tear that away from them. Letting out a sigh of relief, he believed his father.

Authors Notes – Okay, so I finally told the huge plot twist in the story! I have tried to give subtle hints in past chapters – mostly through the use of Castiel's character appearing to watch guard over the Winchester family. Anyways, I would say this story is officially halfway done. I am hoping to wrap it up within the next several chapters. So, I hope you enjoyed. The next chapter will be a doozy that brings the whole story into view. :) Please leave a review and let me know what you think! Also, remember to log in so I can respond to your reviews!


	10. Then, There Were Three

"**The Road Home"**

"**Chapter Ten: Then, There Were Three"**

It had been two weeks after the incident in the warehouse. Slowly, Ben had become less clingy but nonetheless tried to stay close to his father's side when it was possible. Over the weeks, Sam and John had formed an unhealthy habit of wanting to talk about angels at every opportunity they got.

"It's a good thing this Castiel is looking out for us," Sam would often say.

"We don't know if he's really an angel, Sam," their father would reply.

Dean tried to stay out of the conversations as much as possible. All he could think about during those talks was the distant alternate reality that Castiel seemed so intent on telling him about. The very thought that he could lose Ben if this archangel seemed fit to turn back the hands of time… it was suffocating.

"I talked to Pastor Jim," Sam started the tasking conversation once more, "and he said if anything was powerful enough to heal Dean when he was as good as dead, it's an angel. He's never heard of anything else that could heal a person who had died."

Dean looked over at Ben who was sitting on their bed coloring. He glanced up at his uncle briefly as though trying to comprehend the conversation at hand. His bottom lip slipped between his baby teeth as his crayon dangled from his fingertips.

"I haven't either," argued their father, "but I've also never heard of angels actually existing either."

"Whose to say they don't exist though?" challenged Sam.

"Sam, I've been hunting for what? Twenty years? I've seen and heard of everything. An angel isn't one of the things I've ever seen or even heard about."

"Who wants some grub?" Dean interrupted loudly. "I'm _starving_!"

John pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and threw a couple twenties towards his eldest son. Dean gathered up the bills. He reached over and ruffled his son's hair and told him to be good for his uncle and grandfather. Ben nodded, a frown etched into his eyebrows at not being able to join his father in the outing.

"I'll be back with some greasy goodness!" announced Dean as he shrugged on his leather jacket. "By the time I get back, I want you two to be done talking about this angel shit."

Sliding into the front seat of the Impala, Dean turned over the engine and sighed deeply. It felt so good to be behind the wheel of his beloved car and not have to listen to his family debate the topic of angels. Pulling out of the motel parking lot, Dean's mind wandered to where to get food.

After ten minutes of driving, there was a whoosh of air the caused Dean to nearly crash the Impala. Castiel had just appeared in the passenger's seat out of nowhere and scared the shit out of him. The car swerved into the oncoming traffic lane. Luckily, no one was there. A car behind him honked loudly - probably thought he fell asleep at the wheel or something. Dean cursed and shot a death glare at the angel.

"What the hell were you thinking? We could have died!"

"We're fine, Dean."

"Yeah, no thanks to you, Roma Downey."

"I don't understand that reference," Castiel stated as he glanced over at Dean. "If you had crashed, I would have healed you."

Dean laughed and kept his eyes on the road. The angel was really beginning to bug him. The two weeks have his absence had been heaven. If he never saw the angel again, he would have been all too happy.

"You gonna heal my car too?"

"Cars can't be healed, Dean. It's not a person," the angel reasoned.

"No shit. What do you want?"

Castiel leaned back into the leather seat, his gaze watching the passing houses and picket fences. He said nothing for the longest time, which only pissed Dean off more.

"It's been a long time since we've driven together," he said finally. "It gives you freedom to think. It was a luxury that I never knew existed."

"So, you came here just for a car ride?

"No, I came to warn you."

"Oh yeah? You wanna cut to the chase or do you wanna have the freedom to think a little longer?"

"It's Ariel. I found out she sent Azazel to Ben's home. It was her who suggested killing off Lisa."

Dean could hear his heart beat fast in his ears. An angel sentenced Lisa to her death? He thought angels were supposed to be sugar and spice and everything nice.

"The mermaid didn't want to get her own angelic hands dirty so she had a demon do her work?"

"She had Azazel do this task, because he already had an interest in Ben."

"What the hell does that mean?"

Castiel looked out the window, refusing to look at Dean. It was almost as though he was contemplating if he should tell Dean the truth or not. If the angel didn't start talking soon, Dean was going to pound him into the freakin' ground.

"When Sam was a baby, the night your mother died, Azazel marked Sam."

"Marked him? How?"

"He gave Sam demon blood. He gave a lot of children over the years demon blood."

Dean's grip tightened around the steering wheel. He licked his lips, his gaze flickering to the angel next to him. The angel was not looking at him. Instead, he was still gazing at the passing scenery with mild interest.

"_Why_?"

"To give these children demonic powers."

"Sam doesn't have demonic powers," Dean protested.

"He will in a few years. He did the same to Ben. He has had demons following your family for years. One demon reported back to Azazel about you fathering a son. Azazel visited Ben when he was six months old, dripped demonic blood into his mouth."

He needed to pull over before he really did crash the car. Finding an abandoned lot on the side of the road, Dean pulled off and cut the engine. Leaning back into the leather seats, Dean felt a lump form in his throat.

"Why should I believe you?"

"Because I am telling you the truth, Dean. In that other life I told you about, I lied to you about things. You got so angry with me that it tarnished our friendship beyond repair. I do not want that to happen again. In fact, I am going to tell you whom Ariel is going after next. Hopefully, you can beat her there."

Running a weary hand over his face, Dean sighed heavily. The very thought of going head to head with an angel was unappealing to say the least. How the hell would you even kill a freakin' angel?

"Fine, who?"

"Adam."

"Who the hell is Adam?"

Dean's gaze snapped to the angel once more. Castiel looked at him, his head cocked slightly to the right.

"I keep forgetting you are not the Dean I knew. I expect you to know these things."

"Sorry to burst your little bubble. Who's Adam?"

"I think that is a conversation you need to have with your father, because he knows Adam's location. I do not have that information. All I know is that Ariel is on the hunt for him."

"What does Ariel want with this Adam?"

"She wants him on the road with you. If John will not tell you who Adam is, call on me. We will find him together."

With a whoosh, Castiel was gone. Dean swore loudly and pounded the steering wheel with the palm of his hand. He was sick of all the cryptic crap he was receiving from the angel.

He raced back to the motel sans food so he could get answers from his father. Upon entering the room, he spotted Sammy and Ben playing a board game together. John was sitting on the couch writing in his damn journal again.

"Dude, I thought you were picking up dinner?" Sam said when he noticed Dean had no bags of food.

"Who's Adam?" Dean ignored his brother and looked directly at his father.

John looked up at his oldest son, his face drained of color completely. The journal slipped through his fingers, his jaw tightening.

"How do you know that name?"

"The angel on my shoulder told me about him. Who is Adam?"

John hesitated. For a few seconds, Dean thought he was going to have to call Castiel to get some damn answers.

"Thirteen years ago, I was hunting a ghoul in Minnesota. I got hurt. I was rushed to the hospital. I met this nurse named Kate Milligan. When I was released… we had a good time in her apartment. Two months later, she calls me. Tells me she's pregnant. I told her to get rid of the child. I couldn't be no father to that kid."

Dean hung his head. He had another little brother. Ariel was going after all the females in the Winchester's lives to bring the males close together. What Dean couldn't figure out was why.

"She didn't get the abortion," John continued. "A few months ago, I get a call. It was a boy. She named him Adam. He's been asking about me for years. When you were in Delaware, I went out to meet him. He looks just like Sammy did at that age."

Nobody said anything. Sam stared at his brother, waiting for him to say the first words. Dean wanted to punch something. John had been lying to him for months. If there was one thing about Dean and John's relationship, it was that they always told each other everything. John told Dean about hunting, told him where he was going, and what he was doing. They lied to Sam for as long as they could, to keep him innocent and in the dark. John had never kept anything from Dean. He always told him everything. How could he not tell him this?"

"Where in Minnesota?"

"Why? What are you going to do, Dean?"

"I want to meet the kid. He's m'brother."

"Windom."

"Ben, come on, pack up. We're moving out."

Ben slid out of his chair and went over to the foot of his bed where his bag was residing with a few miscellaneous items were strewn outside the bag. Dean knelt down beside his son, helping him pack the stuff into the bag as quickly as they could.

"Dean, would you just wait for two seconds?" asked John.

"Are you coming, Sam, or do you want to stay with Dad?" Dean ignored his father.

Sam stood up and rushed to his bed to grab his bag. He stuffed his things inside quickly. He did not want Dean to leave without him.

"Dean. Sam. Just stop, okay!" shouted John. "I didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know what you would think!"

"What I would think?" hissed Dean. "Thought I wouldn't want to know my brother because he was a result of a one-night stand? Is that what you think of Ben?"

"No! Dean! I love Ben!"

"Just like you love Adam, right? You never wanted him to exist! Just like you wish that Ben never existed! I am done! Sam, come on!"

Grabbing his and Ben's bag, Dean motioned for Ben to follow him.

"Dean!"

Dean was out of the motel room in a flash, Ben following closely behind him. Sam was not far behind them. They piled their bags into the trunk of the car. Dean motioned for Ben to hop in the back, while Sam took his spot in the passenger's seat. John was walking towards the Impala. Dean slipped into the driver's seat and turned over the engine. He sped out of the parking lot, John growing progressively smaller in the rearview.

Glancing into his mirror, Dean saw Ben curled up in the backseat of the Impala. A frown was etched on his face, his knees brought up to his chest. The kid looked about ready to cry.

"Ben, you wanna sit up front with us? Sam can help you over."

With a nod, Ben attempted to climb over the front bench seat. Sam twisted around to grab the kid under his armpits and haul him into the front. He wrapped his arms around the kid to cuddle him closely so Dean could drive easier.

"I'm sorry I yelled Ben," Dean said as he glanced briefly at his son. "I'm not mad at you."

"Dean, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam."

"You seem pretty upset."

"Damn right I'm upset. We have a little brother, Sam. How can you not be upset that Dad never told us about him?"

"Because… Dad's notorious for keeping secrets."

Dean didn't say anything. Instead he just drove. He drove through the night. He drove long after Sammy and Ben had fallen asleep next to him. With the low hums of classic rock filtering through the Impala, he allowed the melody to keep him alert as he took all major highways to Minnesota.

Sam woke up around six in the morning and offered to drive the rest of the way to Windom. Dean allowed him too. Sliding into the passenger's seat, he scooped Ben up in his arms and quickly fell asleep. It was just pass eight when they crossed into Windom. Sam stopped briefly to get his hands on a phone book to see where the Milligans lived. Luckily, there was only one Katherine Milligan in the Windom area.

Driving down the road, Sam saw flashes of light in front of him. There was an array of cop cars outside of a residence. Sam's heart sank, his hand immediately tapping Dean's shoulder to jolt him awake.

"We there?"

Dean adjusted, wiping his eyes free of sleep. The Impala was parked in the midst of all the cop cars. Dean swore. Then, he told Sam to stay with Ben and call their dad.

Hauling his frame out of the Impala, Dean walked up to the yellow police tape that fenced off the house. An officer turned to look at him and told him he couldn't go any further.

"What happened?"

"I'm sorry, Sir-"

"My brother lives here. Is he okay?"

"You're family?"

"Yeah, he's my little brother. I came to surprise him."

"What's your name?"

"Dean Winchester. Adam's my half brother. We share the same dad."

The officer nodded and flagged down a detective who was on the phone. After a few minutes, the detective came over.

"You family?"

"Is my brother okay?"

"He's fine. He woke up to find his mom gone. She one to just take off?"

"I don't know. She's not my mom. We only share the same dad. I don't know the mom too well. Can I see Adam?"

The detective allowed Dean through. On the front porch was a swing. On the swing was a kid of twelve sitting there, swinging idly back and forth. His gaze was on his shoes. He looked just like Sam had at that age except the kid had a haircut most similar to Dean's liking.

The stairs to the porch creaked, and Adam looked up at the newcomer. Dean inched forward and sat down next to his brother.

"My name's Dean."

"Adam," the kid said in a miserable tone and returned his attention back to his shoelaces.

"My dad's John Winchester."

This caught the kid's attention. He glanced up at Dean as though searching for similar features between them. He didn't really see any, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

"Is my dad here?"

"No, but he's being called right now."

"Are you really my brother?"

"Yeah, our dad told me about you. I wanted to come out and meet you. What happened here?"

Adam shrugged looked around at the cops and detectives that surrounded the property. He sniffed and glanced back down at his shoelaces.

"I woke up and my mom was gone."

"Is that unusual?" questioned Dean as Adam looked up at his newfound brother.

"Yeah, I mean… sometimes she gets called into work early, but she always leaves me a note on the fridge. I called the hospital but they said she wasn't at work. I called some of her friends, but they hadn't seen her either. Then I looked and her car was in the garage, so I called 911."

"I need you to listen to me, Adam. A social worker is going to come and talk to you. They're going to take you to a group home or a foster home."

"I don't want to leave! I wanna look for my mom!"

"Then you tell them I'm your brother. Don't tell them we just met though, okay? You can come and stay with me until Dad gets here."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course, Dude."

Adam nodded, a faint glimmer of hope sparking in his eyes. His hands gripped the wooden swing on either side of his thighs.

"Do we have any other brothers or sisters?"

"Yeah, I'm the oldest. Then there's Sammy. Then you. You also got a nephew."

A small smile crept its way onto Adam's face. As soon as it appeared, it was gone. Dean only assumed the kid started to think about his mom again.

"How old are you?"

"I'm twenty-three. Sammy's nineteen. Ben, my son, is four." Dean clasped a hand on the back of the kid's neck. "You wanna go grab some stuff to take with you?"

The two brothers walked into the house. A few cops were busy going through date books and mail. They were also swiping for prints. Adam led Dean upstairs to his bedroom.

There was a lot of Minnesota Twins memorabilia and a poster of the Vikings above his bed. Above his desk was a memory board. There were a few pictures of him with friend, a bumper sticker with John Hopkins written on it with the Blue Jay underneath, a school calendar, a note that said to write his history report, and a picture of him with John Winchester. Dean stared at the picture of his dad. He was all smiles with his arm wrapped around Adam's shoulders.

"How long am I gonna be gone?" asked Adam but his brother was too busy staring at the picture. "Dean!"

"What?" answered in a faraway voice.

"How long am I gonna be gone? I dunno how much to pack."

"Just pack what you can. If we need to come back for more, we can."

"You think my mom will be gone that long?"

"I dunno, Adam," he answered honestly.

Adam pushed the duffle bag away and sat down on the bed. He sniffed loudly but no tears fell. Dean crossed the room and sat down next to his brother.

"What do you think happened?" he asked, glancing up at his big brother.

"I don't know."

"Do you think she'll be okay?"

"Honestly, I don't know, Adam." Dean wrapped an arm around the kid. "I can tell you one thing though. No matters what happens, I'll always be here for you. You're m'brother, and you can always count on me. I promise to do everything in my power to find her."

"Are you a cop?"

Dean let out a small chuckle. He thought it would be better to hear about the truth from their dad.

"Something like that."

"What do you mean?"

"I think you need to talk to Dad about it."

"Why? Dad's a mechanic. Why would he have to tell me about what you do?"

The kid reminded him of Sammy when he was younger with all of the questions. It was refreshing in a way and instantly made Dean feel close to the kid.

"Come on, Sammy and Ben are waiting by the car. We'll stay at a motel until Dad gets here."

Tapping the kid on the shoulder, Dean stood up and ambled over to the door. Propping himself up against the frame, he waited patiently for Adam to finish packing up some stuff. Within ten minutes, they were making their way out of the house and towards the Impala.

Sam and Ben sat on the hood of the car. Ben sat Indian style, his gaze fixated on the house. Sam was talking to him in low tones, his eyes focused on his nephew's face. Upon hearing the footfalls, Sam turned his attention to his brothers.

"Adam, this is our brother Sammy," Dean introduced.

"Call me Sam," he said as he slid off the car and closed the space between him and his brothers.

"This is my son Ben. Ben, this is your Uncle Adam."

"Hi," Ben said with a slight wave.

"What happened?" asked Sam, his attention turning to his older brother.

"I dunno. Looked clean."

Dean hauled his son off the hood of the car and situated him in his arms. He motioned for Adam to get into the backseat of the Impala and sat Ben next to him. He then made his way to the passenger's seat. For once, he didn't feel like driving. Sam took the hint and slid behind the wheel and searched for the nearest motel.

Author's Notes – I am so sorry it took so long for the newest chapter! It was a difficult chapter to write because I wanted to introduce Adam carefully. Anyways, I hope that you enjoyed! Please, leave a review before going off to read another story. :)


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